Complications
by RogueAngel
Summary: Jim never thought he'd have anything in common with his mother.  Then the complications started.  Is he strong enough to live through them? A Continuation of the Consequences 'verse.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**__: I don't own anything to do with Star Trek except the DVD. Jim and his crew all belong to Paramount, Gene Roddenberry, JJ Abrams and whoever else has a piece of that lucrative pie. Abby belongs to me. Marissa belongs to me, but was inspired by TalesFromTheSpockSide's story _Hero_. I am making no money, but am having a heck of a lot of fun._

_**Disclaimer #2**__: This story is rated M over all, but I will tell you what each chapter is rated. If you would like a PG version (meaning: no sex) then PM me and I can send it to you. The same goes for any of my other stories, too._

_**Thanks**__: To RoyalPinkDogs who is my beta reader and co-author (though she says she isn't). Seriously folks, I don't know what I would have done without her. This story probably wouldn't have been written at all. So, even though it isn't nearly enough – Thanks – I couldn't do this without you, J. – RA_

_**The Consequences 'verse is as follows**__: _Consequences_, _Parenthood: The Sexless Frontier, First Impressions and Quality Time_, and now…_

**Complications**

**Chapter One**

Stardate 2260.23

"Here you go, some hot tea with two sugars," Jim said as he handed Marissa a mug of her favorite tea. Carefully holding his own glass of whiskey neat, he sat down at the end of the couch, put his feet up on the coffee table and let out a contented sigh. "It's good to be home."

"Yes it is," Marissa agreed, smiling contentedly. She waited for him to settle before curling up next to him, his arm coming to rest over her shoulder as she tucked herself against his side. She held her mug with both hands close under her nose to let the steam warm her hands and face. Even with the environmental controls, Marissa always seemed to be a bit on the chilly side. Jim was more than happy to snuggle any time she wished.

The Stratnon conference had ended the night before with another gala dinner that included speeches, dancing and lots smoozing. They'd stayed out way too late visiting with Admiral Pike and Aja, as well as with Marissa's friends and colleagues from the xenohistory field. Jim had enjoyed being an observer rather than the observed. After all, the conference had been an academic event. Sure he done a few talks about tactics and some PR as Starfleet's poster boy, but that was minor in comparison to the other people who had been invited to speak and share their knowledge. It felt pretty damn good to be a footnote rather than the dissertation. And it was amazing to watch Marissa shine as she received the recognition and accolades she deserved.

They'd shared a late breakfast with Marissa's family that morning and then tearfully saw them off at the spaceport. The tears were all on Marissa's part, of course, and her female relatives. Jim just wasn't used to such emotional displays and was relieved when Nancy finally let go of him and stopped crying and thanking him for allowing them to visit. He'd enjoyed their visit and was glad he had bought the tickets, if only to see the surprise and excitment on Marissa's face, but he was also more than happy to see them go. He wanted his own little family back.

Jim had immediately been swept up into ship's business as soon as they arrived back on the _Enterprise_ after lunch, so now was the first time he had to relax back in his own quarters. Marissa was off duty until tomorrow morning so she and Abby had unpacked and settled back into their usual routine.

They sat on the couch peacefully watching Abby play with her new piano. She had lined up all of her 'guys,' the stuffed animals and dolls that she had acquired over her short lifespan, to listen to her performance. Her music barely reached her parents' ears, but she could hear it well enough and was happy.

"Have I ever told you how much I love volume control?" Jim asked as he sipped his drink.

"Yes, often," Marissa replied with a grin, snuggling against him further and pulling the quilt over her legs. "And I maintain that for an almost fourteen month old she's pretty good. She doesn't pound on the keys anymore."

"Thank goodness for that," Jim countered. "I agree that we have the cleverest child in the galaxy, but a musician she isn't."

"Not yet," Marissa responded playfully.

"Not yet," Jim conceded.

They sat there quietly, Jim's thoughts drifting over the past few weeks, a feeling of contentment sinking into his bones. He was happy. And for one of the few times in his life he knew he was exactly where he needed and wanted to be. The first time he'd felt this content had been odd and he hadn't recognized the feeling for what it was, but it had been when he was sitting on the shuttle on the way to the Academy next to Bones. It had just felt right sharing a sip from that flask with the strange, rumpled doctor.

The second time was when he had finally taken control of the _Enterprise_ and announced that they were pursuing Nero. He'd been scared shitless and he knew that the crew – Uhura most vocally, but Bones not far behind – were unsure of his sudden captaincy, but he knew, right down to his very core, that he was right where he needed to be.

Since Abby had been born the feeling of rightness had only increased - in his personal as well as his professional life. It was really the personal aspect that amazed him the most. He knew he was a smart guy; he knew he was a good captain and that he could become a great one, but he wasn't used to feeling satisfied in his personal life. And he definitely wasn't used to feeling connected and content with another person like Marissa. Being a dad and having Abby was just icing on the cake.

"Have I told you how wonderful you are?" Marissa asked, interrupting his profound thoughts. She finished her tea and casually handed him her mug. Without protest he placed it on the end table and pulled her closer to him.

"Not in the last couple hours," he laughed, kissing her forehead. "And why am I so wonderful tonight? I mean there are so many reasons to choose from."

Marissa laughed as she was meant to. "Where to begin, where to begin?" she said playfully. "Well, _this_ time I was referring to you bringing my family to visit us on Stratnon, but now that you mention it, you were pretty wonderful letting me do all that shopping and taking everyone out for dinner and putting up with Jake hero worshipping you."

"Don't forget Peter and Alex," Jim interjected. His nephews had followed him around and asked tons of questions once they became comfortable with him, which took all of ten minutes.

"And Peter and Alex," Marissa agreed. "All the kids, really. You were great with them."

"Well, Bones would say I'm just a great big kid anyway," Jim said with a smile, though Bones was really one to talk. He'd been lead instigator in a water fight that had involved not just the kids, but Sam, Jim and several other members of Jim's crew that had been visiting at the time. Hell, even Spock had 'defended' himself, though Jim was pretty sure using a bucket to douse his opponents was pretty damn offensive rather than defensive.

"And you let Mel and Maddy use you for make-up practice," Marissa added, unable to contain her grin. She had a picture of him somewhere and he was going to find it eventually. The captain of the _Enterprise_ could not be seen wearing lipstick and blush. It just wasn't right.

"That was above and beyond," Jim agreed ruefully. "They lulled me with the sweet little smiles and, 'please, Jim! Pretty please?'" he batted his eyelashes and spoke in a falsetto voice. "Devious little things."

Marissa laughed, but then become serious. "And for trying to get along with my dad," she said softly, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "You are wonderful and made our time on Stratnon extra special for me. Thank you."

"Hey, you got us there," Jim told her, giving her a one armed hug. "If it wasn't for your little project with Aja the _Enterprise_ would be cruising through the Tholian system on another boring mapping mission. Instead we got a ten day shore leave on an earth-like planet where we got to be a normal couple and family, at least for a few days."

"Normal except for the press conferences and Q&A panels and network interviews," Marissa chuckled wryly.

"Hey!" Jim protested good-naturedly. "You had more panels than I did and all that other stuff was pretty minor, comparatively. At least we weren't followed around once I did the interviews."

"True," Marissa agreed. "You're right. It was nice to be normal for a while. And it was nice to see our families." She looked over at him from the corner of her eye. "Do you think you and Sam…?" she trailed off, knowing he would understand what she meant.

"I don't know," Jim shrugged, his eyes still focused on Abby, but there was a slight frown marring his forehead as he thought. "Probably. I mean, I hope so. He's my brother, after all. It was good seeing him. And the boys were great." He sighed and then leaned his head against Marissa's. "I don't want to lose touch with him again. Aside from you and Abby, he's the only family I have."

Neither of them mentioned the glaring omission of his mother who was, they had found out, currently stationed on Starbase 11. The _Enterprise_ had been within spitting distance, galactically speaking, several times since they'd started their mission and not a word was heard from her.

"Abby sure enjoyed all the attention," Marissa said, pulling their thoughts away from what she knew they were both thinking about.

"Yeah. I've never seen her sleep so hard," Jim chuckled. "She went from walking to running without a problem, that's for sure."

"She loves aunts and uncle, and her cousins, too," Marissa agreed, smiling fondly. "I hope she won't miss them too much. She hasn't really taken to any of the kids in daycare like that and the Dapplemeyers are about the same ages as Mel and Maddy. And Tim and Tom are only a year older than her."

"Well," Jim pondered, hearing the slight worry in Marissa's voice. "The Dapplemeyer girls have their baby brother to fawn over and the twins – they're a matched set, right? They don't really need anyone else. She'll make friends, don't worry."

"I know," Marissa sighed watching Abby sleepily as she rested against Jim. Still a mother always wondered and worried about their child and Jim knew that only time would tell how much Abby missed her young relatives and how well she would interact with the other children on the _Enterprise_. So far there hadn't been any issues, for which Jim was relieved. He hadn't been the easiest child to raise, he knew.

Sprawled out and relaxed next to Marissa, Jim's mind was suddenly spinning as he watched Abby and contemplated her life on the _Enterprise_. Being around so many children was a new experience for him. Sure, he'd gone to daycare for a few years after the deaths of his grandparents and before his mom had married Frank, but he'd forgotten, or maybe not even realized, that kids tended to run in packs and Abby was just entering that age where she would start socializing. She had the kids in daycare and Jim and Marissa and the crew, but what about long term? What about as she grew older and people came and went on the _Enterprise_? She'd always have Jim and Marissa, but other than her pseudo aunts and uncles on the crew, there were no children, no cousins, that she could play with on a regular basis.

Taking a deep breath, Jim glanced down at Marissa who was watching Abby with a fond smile, her eyes drooping. "It would be nice," he began hesitantly, his eyes fixed on the wall across from him. "I mean, Scotty once mentioned… and I thought he was crazy, but now that I think about it and seeing Abby with her cousins… She really loved being around other kids and it would be good for her. I mean, we have each other, but Abby has no one," he shook his head in frustration. He knew he was rambling like an idiot.

"I mean she'll always have us, and Bones and Uhura and Spock and the others, but… and I was just wondering…" he trailed off losing whatever confidence he had when he started this whole meandering train of thought. He really wasn't used to not being able to articulate his thoughts, but this was just so important and so big, he didn't know how to say it.

During his little messed up speech Marissa had pulled away from him slightly, watching him bemusedly as he fumbled for words. Blushing he shook his head. Pulling her back against him, he kissed the top of her head. "Never mind."

"Okay," Marissa agreed slowly, still watching him with a small smile hovering on her lips. Jim was embarrassed and tried to ignore how hot his face was feeling. When had he become a stuttering fool unable to get his point across?

"Jim?" Marissa asked a couple minutes later. He'd thought she'd dozed off already.

"Yeah?"

"I want to have another baby," she told him succinctly, grinning slyly up at him and obviously enjoying his stunned expression.

"Really?" he replied, his eyes wide with wonder and hope.

"Really," she agreed with a soft smile. "I've been thinking about it for a while now."

"Really?" Jim asked incredulously.

"Yeah," she nodded, looking over at him expectantly.

"Okay," Jim agreed with a huge smile.

Smiling goofily, they relaxed against each other, watching Abby with a whole new appreciation and anticipation of what was to come.

"So what do we do now?' Jim finally asked.

Marissa snorted, causing Jim to poke her playfully in the side making her giggle and drawing Abby's attention.

"I know what we do," Jim said, shaking his head wryly. "And it's a good thing we've been practicing so much, huh? I just…" he looked over at her questioningly and shrugged. "Where do we go from here? Not like we planned anything the first time."

"Well," Marissa began, pausing to accept a hug and kiss from one of Abby's dolls and then smiling as Jim did the same. "My birth control booster is due in another two weeks. That gives us some time to think this over."

"I'm not changing my mind," Jim interjected immediately.

"Neither am I," Marissa agreed smoothly, her small hand patting his arm. "But it will make Len happier if he thinks we gave this sufficient thought."

"That's true," Jim nodded thoughtfully. "You are brilliant."

"I know," Marissa said, snuggling further into his side with a contented hum. "So we have two weeks and then I skip the booster and we wait and see what happens."

"Well it didn't take much the first time," he pointed out.

"True," Marissa nodded, "but I was on – or rather just coming off – a different form of birth control. This new stuff might stay in effect longer, I'm not sure."

"We'll just have to wait and see, then." Leaning he tipped up Marissa's chin and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. "Feel like practicing?" he grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"I think I could be persuaded," Marissa grinned back.

Jim leaned back down to kiss her again, but was interrupted by a loud crashing noise. Looking up they saw that Abby had managed to dump all her building blocks on top of her piano.

"Abby," Marissa scolded, frowning at their daughter. "Be nice to your piano. Now put the blocks back into their box."

Not put off by her mother's frown, Abby began to delicately place the blocks back into their container one by one.

"This will take forever," Jim mumbled under his breath with a smile as he watched Abby examine each block before setting it purposefully back into the box. "What is it about one year olds that they have to dump everything out?" he asked.

Marissa shrugged. "They want to know what all is inside, I guess. Curiosity is good."

"Whatever," Jim replied, shaking his head fondly. Abby had only managed to get two more blocks put away. "I guess we'll have to practice once the munchkin is in bed."

"Like we'd have a chance any other time," Marissa said wryly. Sitting up she stretched and looked over at the chrono. "What do you say, baby girl?" She got down off the couch and crawled over to Abby. "Is it time for bed?"

Abby shook her head wildly, her curls flying in her face. "No ni ni!" she declared.

"I think so," Marissa told her, grabbing her and kissing her chubby neck and making her squeal. "I think it's bedtime and I think daddy needs to help clean up all these toys."

"Oh man," Jim whined, causing Abby to giggle some more. Flopping off the couch he began stalking around the coffee table towards Marissa and Abby, growling like a large animal. Abby gave a loud squeal and wiggled out of her mother's arms. She knew this game. "What do you say I steal the baby and toss her in the air and then eat her up for a snack?" Jim growled.

"Ba' dada," Abby laughed, making a run for the hallway. "No 'nack!"

Pausing to kiss Marissa, Jim followed Abby down the hall calling out, "where's the baby? I'm hungry! I'm going to eat you up!"

Marissa smiled, hearing Abby's quiet giggles coming from her room. She'd taken to hiding behind her door and then jumping on Jim as soon as he crawled in. Right on cue, Jim's dramatic bellow of, "I've been caught!" echoed through their quarters, making Marissa smile even wider. Jim was so good with her.

Abby had been a shock and a surprise, but a wonderful blessing in their lives. Marissa was looking forward to having another baby - without all the worries and panic – and with Jim's full and constant support, knowing how things were going go. This was going to be a wonderful adventure; they could share in all the joy and expectations from the very beginning.

After she finished putting away Abby's toys, Marissa joined them for the rest of their usual bedtime routine: story, bottle, and songs; bath time had occurred earlier in the day when they first got back to the ship. Abby went easily to sleep after the excitement of the day, but they stood together for a while gazing at her.

Jim gathered Marissa into his arms. "Are you sure? It's a lot for you to go through and that whole labor thing wasn't exactly fun. It really ought to be my turn this time."

"Do they make maternity uniforms in command gold?" Marissa looked up at him with a grin, before patting his arm soothingly. "Yes, Jim, I'm sure. I don't remember the pain of it, just the joy. And she's totally worth it, don't you think? Maybe this time, though, we inform Starfleet and let me have some maternity leave after Deuce is born."

"Deuce," Jim chuckled in surprise. "Deuce Kirk. I like it. Same deal? Boy, you name him; girl, I name her?"

"Same deal. You did good on this one, but don't be expecting a Deuce Kirk if we have a boy," she grinned as she took his hand and led him toward their bedroom, letting the door to Abby's room slide shut. "Now, about that practicing you wanted to do. I might have picked up a few little things from that shop we saw."

Jim grinned wickedly, pulling her back up against his chest and nuzzling her neck. "When you say little..." he prodded.

"I mean scraps, basically," Marissa practically purred as he kissed the spot behind her ear that always made her knees weak, before licking it softly.

"Lacy?" He gently bit her earlobe.

"Uh huh," she sighed

"And silky?" Bringing his hands up from her waist Jim cupped her breasts and teasingly worked his fingers over her nipples.

"Of course," Marissa replied, tilting her head further to the side. The hairs on her arms were standing up as she shivered in his arms.

"And see through?"

"Maybe." Pulling away from him, Marissa grabbed his hand and led him towards the bed. "I might even be wearing something now, though it's a bit tamer than some of the other things I bought."

Jim leered at her. "I like a woman who thinks ahead."

"I thought you might." Wrapping her hands around his neck, Marissa let herself fall backwards onto the bed knowing that Jim would stop his fall and not squish her. Legs on either side of his hips, Marissa rubbed one foot against his calf. "Any guesses on color?"

"Hmmm," Jim pretended to think as he nuzzled her neck and then worked his way down her body, kissing and rubbing through her sweatshirt. "Red? No. Too obvious." He shifted her shirt up a little and kissed her belly. "Pink?" He blew a raspberry, making her laugh and tense up, but her legs and hips were held down by his weight so she couldn't move far. He shook his head, popping the button on her pants. "Naw, too girly." Slowly he unzipped her pants part way, laying them open and placing open mouth kisses on her lower belly. "White could be interesting."

"I usually wear white," Marissa pointed out.

"Yeah, but that's the plain standard issue stuff," Jim replied, working his way over to her hip and making her wiggle. "I'm talking lacy, see through, silky white that contrasts perfectly with your skin. Like an angel."

"I don't have wings," Marissa giggled as he went at other hip, "and I don't think I'm anywhere near being an angel. Better off with the red, considering what I want to do to you right now."

Jim stopped his ministrations and looked up at her, his chin resting lightly on her stomach. "You're my angel," he said softly, his eyes and expression serious.

"Oh Jim," Marissa bit her lip, sudden tears coming to her eyes as she ran her hand through his hair.

"But white is not my guess," Jim said, breaking the serious moment and grabbing for the fabric of her pants, getting ready to pull them off.

"So what's your guess?" Marissa asked playfully, lifting her hips slightly.

Jim cocked an eyebrow. "What do I get if I'm right?"

"What do you get? Anything," Marissa replied in a husky voice, one finger trailing over his cheek, to rest on his lower lip. "Anything you want."

Taking her finger into his mouth, Jim nibbled on it briefly. "Then my guess is…black!" He tugged her pants down off her hips and smiled. "'cause you know how I love the black underwears." He winked at her.

Marissa laughed and then wiggled a bit, shifting so she could remove her top. Leaning up on her elbows she stared down at him with a wide grin. "So what do you want?"

Jim just stared. "Damn, Mariss."

"You like?" she asked, a light blush staining her cheeks as his eyes continued to roam all over her body.

"Are you crazy?" Jim laughed. "I like very much."

"Well, if you get up, I can take my pants off all the way and you can get the full effect."

Rolling to the side, Jim waved her up. "By all means." He laid himself horizontal on the bed, propped on his side with his hand holding up his head watching her with eyes that barely showed any hint of blue.

Standing up, Marissa turned and began slowly tugging her pants down, exposing her rear to Jim's view. The panty and bra set wasn't anything too fancy; she was sure Jim had seen things more risqué in his time, but it was different for her.

The bra was black silk overlaid with silver lace in the demi-cup style that had the tops of her breasts practically spilling over and did amazing things to her cleavage. If she had been wearing anything other than Jim's old Academy sweatshirt he would have noticed right away. The panties had taken a bit to get used to. They too were black silk with silver lace, cut in a sexy brief style in front that tapered to a thong in the back. Knowing what Jim thought of her bottom, she thought this style was something he might like.

"Holy shit, Mariss," Jim huffed appreciatively. "That's hot."

She wiggled her rear at him. "Thought you might like it."

"Yeah, I do," he agreed, sitting up and reaching for her, his hands caressing as much skin as possible. "One thing though."

"What?" she asked, happily giving herself over to his ministrations.

"You are not allowed to wear this when you are on duty." He leaned down and kissed one of her butt cheeks, a hand sneaking around to the front to rub against her silk clad mound.

"Why not?" Marissa asked, her hand over his, guiding it to where she wanted it. "Once I got used to it, I kinda liked it. It's rather interesting knowing I'm wearing something sexy underneath my perfectly boring uniform."

"I know," Jim agreed, "and if I think you're wearing something like this I won't be able to concentrate at all. And I'll have a hard on all the time. As captain, I just can't be distracted like that." He was trying to sound serious, but his voice was betraying him. It was deep and hoarse as he pressed his face into Marissa's lower back, letting his hands explore, one up, one down, much to her delight.

"That's the idea," Marissa laughed lightly. "But I'll take your concerns under advisement." She jerked against his hands and hissed as he took a playful nip at her backside.

"Minx."

Turning her around suddenly, Jim pulled her on top of him as he lay back down. His hands were now running up and down her back and over her ass as he got an eye full of her cleavage. "You're trying to kill me," he accused, leaning up to kiss and lick her neck again.

"Not at all," Marissa sighed. "Just torture you a little."

Jim huffed, switching to the other side of her neck. "Well, it's working, but don't let me stop you."

"I probably shouldn't tell you that I have a matching garter belt, then, should I?"

"Oh god," Jim moaned, reaching up to kiss her.

They continued to kiss, alternating between teasing touches and deep, passionate moments, each trying to outdo the other, for several minutes. Jim's hands were everywhere, rubbing and caressing. Marissa found herself arching against him, unable to stop herself from pressing against him, trying to get some friction.

"Too many clothes," Marissa complained breathless after a long kiss. Grabbing the hem of Jim's shirt she began tugging it up, her lips and tongue attacking the skin that was finally revealed.

Jim groaned as she rubbed herself over his bare torso, the lace scratching over his suddenly sensitive chest. He watched as Marissa continued to make her way down his body, sticking her tongue in his bellybutton and nipping at the indentations of his hips.

"Still too many clothes," she said again, undoing his pants and impatiently tugging them down his hips along with his briefs. His dick had barely sprung free before she was licking it up one side, from balls to head, and down the other, focusing on the head and then taking him deep, her throat muscles working on him.

"Damn…" he hissed, trying to keep his hips from bucking and gagging her.

"I thought you said I was an angel," Marissa said mischievously, one hand gripping the base of his dick as she licked the head like a lollipop, focusing on the sensitive underside that she knew drove him nuts.

"Not with a mouth like that," Jim groaned as she once again deep throated him, her other hand now lightly toying with his balls. He let her continue her ministrations, his hands white fisted in the sheets, for a few more minutes before he couldn't take it any more and pulled her off. His body was tense and he was beginning to sweat.

"But I wasn't done yet," Marissa frowned, allowing him to pull her up for a deep kiss, his tongue taking possession of her mouth like she had taken possession of him.

"You said I could do anything I wanted if I guessed right," he reminded her, breathing heavily as he enjoyed the friction of her body writhing against his, the silk and lace heightening the feeling.

"So," she whispered, kissing him chastely as her lower body did wicked things. "What do you want to do?"

"Let's take a shower."

"A shower?" she looked at him curiously, his demand obviously not what she expected. "But we're just gonna get all sweaty again and need another one in the morning."

"True, but I want to shower now. And I want you with me," Jim insisted as he unfastened her bra, before helping her arms out of the straps. Obviously eager to get to the shower, he flipped them over and then stood up, letting his pants fall to the ground and kicking them off. With playful aggression he grabbed her legs, flipping her backwards on the bed, and stripped off her underwear, tossing them towards the corner of the room, then pulled her up and lead her into the bathroom.

"Ooooh, I like a man with a purpose," she purred, as he took her into his arms and began kissing and sucking on her neck. "Other side too, please," she said after a minute, tilting her neck to give him better access. Jim happily obliged as her hands ran down his back and over his ass.

Arriving at the shower stall, he waved his hand under the sensor and a torrent of water, pre-set by temperature and spray type, appeared. Not stopping their nibbling or kissing, they moved as one into the stall and Jim lowered himself onto a small bench, leaving Marissa standing in front of him.

A look of surprised delight spread across Marissa's face. She'd suggested months ago that a bench in the shower would be the perfect addition. "All right! You got a seat in here, oh…" she gasped as he took one of her nipples into his mouth. With their height difference and the size of the bench, he was positioned perfectly. She held onto his head and nuzzled her face in his hair as he teased, sucked and stroked her sensitive flesh to firm hard points. Although they had shrunk in size compared to her breast-feeding days, they were no longer as overly sensitive as they had been when she was constantly feeding Abby and Jim was most appreciative of the change. No matter what he said about her bottom, Marissa knew that Jim was a breast man too.

"Oh, this is perfect, and….um…. you can stop…oh… any time tomorrow," she breathed into his scalp, before moaning with pleasure at the sensations he was causing.

Jim pulled back to gaze up at her, his lips lightly swollen from all the kissing and sucking, before reaching toward the shower gel dispenser. With a palm-full of the foam, he began swirling his hands over her shoulders, breasts and belly and down her legs, gently massaging as he covered her front side with suds. Turning her, he did the same thing to her back, occasionally kneading her shoulders and the muscles along her spine. Marissa was limp, her head hanging as she let herself be carried away by his hands on her body, the water warm against her skin.

When she was clean and rinsed off, Jim guided her around again so that she was facing him. His hand then moved to the junction of her legs and delved into the nest of curls. Massaging the soft flesh, he found her clitoris and focused his attentions there. Instinctively Marissa widened her stance, her hands gripping his shoulders, her head thrown back as she sighed in pleasure.

"So wet," Jim murmured against her breasts, his tongue once again circling and teasing one nipple and then the other. "For me."

"Yes," Marissa moaned, guiding his head and pressing her breast against his mouth, urging him to do more than tease. "Please, Jim," she groaned as continued to lick and nibble.

"What?" he asked. One hand was now massaging her ass while the other continued to tease her; dipping into her wetness and stroking deep inside and then coming out to swirl and tease her clitoris.

Her hips jerked against him, her knees bending and dipping, trying to reach completion. "Please… more…" she whined, tugging at his hair and moving impatiently against his fingers.

Just before she reached her climax, Jim moved his hands to her hips and guided her down onto his lap and onto his eagerly awaiting dick. With very little maneuvering, she took him into her body and with one hard thrust of his hips and a little more swirling of his fingers against her clit, Marissa was suddenly overcome by her orgasm; her body arching against him and then back as he continued to thrust, her walls milking and massaging him until Jim came with a muffled groan, his face pressed against her chest.

Eventually their breathing came back to normal and their brains started functioning again, but they made no move to get up and leave their warm, wet haven. Instead they sat holding one another tightly, feeling so connected in sensation and hope, gently kissing.


	2. Chapter 2

_For author's note, acknowledgments and all that stuff, please see chapter 1._

_This chapter is rated T – maybe – for flirting and kissing._

**Complications**

**Chapter 2**

Stardate 2260.32

"Doctor McCoy, could I have a word?" Christine Chapel asked, standing in the doorway to his office and looking somewhat hesitant.

Glad to have a break from the never ending pile of paperwork, McCoy nodded. "Sure, Christine," he told her, waving her in. "What's on your mind?" They'd just left their weekly staff meeting not a half hour ago and she hadn't said anything then. He was even more curious when she shut the door behind her and then proceeded to stand nervously in front of his desk, her hands clenched. Sitting back, McCoy waited for her to begin, wondering what the hell could make his unshakeable head nurse this out of sorts.

"This isn't any of my business," she began slowly, "but Marissa cancelled her monthly appointment. Her monthly appointment for her birth control booster," she clarified at McCoy's confused expression. "Is the captain… Is he getting shots now instead?"

"Not that we've discussed," McCoy replied absently, his brain working through all the implications of Chapel's statement. "He's allergic to most of the common ones and the new injection that Marissa's on seems to be working well."

"Not if she's not taking it," Chapel pointed out. "And she's three weeks overdue."

"Really?" McCoy asked before he could stop himself. Collecting himself he began moving around the PADDs on his desk in an effort to look busy and unconcerned. "I'll talk to Jim about it next time I see him," he told her. "They're adults. We don't need to treat them like children."

At her boss' professional tone and raised eyebrow, Chapel nodded quickly. "Of course, I just… thought you should know."

"I'm sure everything is fine," McCoy reassured her. "But thank you for bringing it to my attention.

With a nod, Chapel quickly left the room, obviously relieved to pass the information on to someone else. McCoy sat back once the door closed and let out a heavy sigh. "What are you two idiots up to?" he muttered under his breath.

McCoy tried to focus on the paperwork in front of him, but Chapel's little bombshell wouldn't leave his mind alone. Eventually he gave up and let the on-call nurse know that he was going to check in with the bridge. If Chapel gave him a knowing look he ignored it.

"Bones!" Jim smiled as he stepped onto the bridge. "What brings you up from the bowels of medical? Bored? Dying to see the Carina Nebula up close? It is pretty amazing, but then I've been staring at it for five days, so… you see one nebula, you've seen 'em all."

"Can I have a word, Jim?" McCoy asked, nodding over towards the captain's ready room.

Jim looked at him curiously before standing. "Sure, Bones. Sure. Mr. Spock, you have the conn.," he said succinctly as he strode over to the door. Triggering the opening mechanism, Jim waved his friend through first. "After you, Bones."

McCoy entered and crossed over to stand in front of Jim's desk. Jim followed him, but instead of going around and seating himself, he perched on the desk and faced him.

"What's up?"

Clearing his throat, McCoy looked at his friend. This really wasn't any of his business, but as Jim's friend and as his CMO, McCoy felt that he really had to say something. "Christine told me something interesting today," he began slowly. Jim's eyebrows rose slightly, silently telling him to continue. "And well, it's not really any of my business, but as your friend, and more importantly your CMO I feel that…"

"Spit it out, Bones," Jim smirked. The little bastard looked like he already knew what he was here to say.

"Marissa didn't come in for her booster this month," he managed to say in a rush. It really was none of his business, but…

"I know," Jim replied calmly, his smirk growing larger.

"You know?" McCoy repeated in a bit of a daze. If he knew then that meant that they were…

"Yeah, I know," Jim told him, going around the desk to sit down. "And seriously, Bones, I expected you up here much sooner. It's been three weeks. What kind of friend and CMO are you?"

The twinkle in his eye let McCoy know that Jim was joking, but that didn't do anything to calm down McCoy's sudden outrage.

"What the hell are you thinking?" he demanded indignantly. Abby was one thing, she'd been an accident and true, Jim and Marissa were coping marvelously and were great parents, but to purposefully skip a birth control booster. That was just inviting trouble.

"We talked about it," Jim told him calmly, "and we decided that we wanted another kid; a brother or sister for Abby."

"Really?" McCoy couldn't help ask incredulously.

"Really," Jim nodded.

"Huh."

Seeing his friend's confusion, Jim tried to explain. "You were an only child, right?" McCoy nodded. "And so was Marissa, for the most part. Didn't you ever want a brother or sister to play with?"

"I guess," McCoy shrugged, "when I was younger."

"Well, it's lonely enough out here as it is," Jim continued. "Not too many kids. Another baby would be the perfect playmate for Abby. I used to follow Sam around everywhere, but he was almost five years older than me. I was a pest more than a playmate, but if we have another kid now, they'll be two, two and half years apart; close enough to be friends. It's the perfect time."

McCoy shook his head in bemusement. "Are you… you know, sure? I know you and Marissa are doing well, but having another kid, just to have a playmate for Abby. That's not a good reason to have another one."

"It's a perfect reason," Jim countered.

"If you're _sure_," McCoy repeated and even he wasn't sure what he was going for here. He'd seen Jim and Marissa together. He'd seen how happy Jim was, but there was just a part of him that worried for Jim; that worried for them both.

"Of course we're sure," Jim said confidently. "I told you, we talked about it. I mean, it's not like we just decided one day 'hey, let's have another one!' and then bam!" Jim laughed. "I've been thinking about it for awhile now. Scotty actually planted the idea months ago with a comment he made, but… I've been thinking about it. And after Stratnon and seeing Abby playing with all those kids, Marissa and I… oh," he suddenly trailed off as if something just occurred to him, a frown now marring his features. "Oh. You don't mean if I'm sure about having another kid." McCoy shook his head slowly. "You mean if I'm sure about Marissa."

"Yeah kid," McCoy agreed sadly. "That's what I meant. I know things seem peachy now, but things can happen. People change. Things don't go like you want them too. Another kid…"

"Bones," Jim said calmly, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. "Marissa and I, we're not you and Jocelyn."

"Christ, kid, I know that," McCoy said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm just saying, things can change; people change."

"Yes, they can," Jim agreed.

"And you… you're not even married," McCoy argued weakly. "Being married is hard work and sometimes that doesn't even pan out."

"Doesn't matter," Jim easily swept aside his protests. "We're not you and Joss, okay? I may not have been in many – okay, any – relationships," Jim corrected himself at McCoy's wry look, "but I do know a good thing when I've got it and Marissa's it for me Bones. I believe that."

"You've had it too easy," McCoy muttered under his breath.

"Too easy? What the fuck, Bones?" Jim looked at him in disbelief. "Too easy? Need I remind you I almost fucked everything up before Abby was even born? Questioning if she was mine, running like a scared kid, and proposing at the exact wrong time? And I'm lucky Marissa hasn't run screaming after all the gossip about her and us and my fucking childhood and, you know, my reputation." He shrugged uncomfortably. He really didn't like to talk about his past even with McCoy.

"Do I need to remind you about a certain almost rapist with my face who seriously messed with Marissa's head?" he continued heatedly. "Do you think it was easy trying to calm her down and not let her run away? Do you think I didn't work hard to fix what he broke?"

"Marissa's too laid back, for you. She's a good girl, but…" McCoy argued half heartedly. "You fell so hard with Abby and all. She's… she's a librarian for chrissakes!"

"Oh, and a librarian is obviously meek and mild," Jim laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. "Have you met Marissa? She has no problems speaking her mind and telling me what's what. You saw her go after Uhura and not even I would do that. And at the bar with Janine… she's not meek or mild in any way. She's not afraid to speak her mind, I'm just lucky enough that she usually waits until we're behind closed doors and not in front of the crew. She's you, Bones; shorter and with a better rack and an awesome ass, but she's a female version of you."

"You say that like that's a good thing," McCoy said disbelievingly.

"It is," Jim smiled. "You're my best friend. You're not afraid to call me on my shit and tell me what I need to hear. Your tough love and soft heart got me through the academy and onto the _Enterprise_. Marissa's my best friend too, but instead of lectures and hyposprays I get kisses and slaps upside the head when I need them. And sex, I get that too," Jim grinned lasciviously. "And it's pretty damn hot for her being a meek little librarian."

"I don't want to know," McCoy shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. "So you're sure?" he had to ask one last time.

"Definitely," Jim smiled softly, a smile that McCoy only saw when Marissa was present or when Jim was talking about her. It spoke volumes about his feelings now that McCoy really looked. There was no artifice to it, just pure Jim. "I'm not letting her go."

Reaching into a drawer, Jim scrambled around a bit before he pulled out a small box. Smiling shyly, he shoved it across the desk.

Sitting down, McCoy slowly opened the box, not at all surprised to see the ring staring up at him. "You shouldn't have, Jim. What would Marissa say?"

Jim huffed and rolled his eyes. "Shut up Bones."

Taking the ring out, McCoy gave a low whistle. "Wow, isn't this a fire diamond?"

"Yeah," Jim grinned. "A Kibberian fire diamond. I also got her a matching necklace and some earrings. I'm going to give her the necklace Friday and the earrings for her birthday or Christmas, of maybe the earrings first – I haven't decided," he shrugged.

"Why Friday?" McCoy asked, looking away from the rare stone and catching the sheepish look on his friend's face. He racked his brain to think of some significant reason. "The anniversary of the destruction of Vulcan is this week…" he trailed off in confusion. Nothing was coming to mind.

"Friday, Bones, is the two year anniversary of Abby's conception," Jim told him, his cheeks actually red. "The first time we had sex. And it's also roughly eighteen months after my disastrous proposal."

"You're not proposing?" McCoy asked, waving the ring.

"No, not this time," Jim smirked wryly. "She said to wait five years, so I figure that gives me another three and half years. Who knows," Jim shrugged. "Maybe she'll propose first."

"Well, she's willing to have your kid – again," McCoy said sardonically.

"Yeah, I know," Jim grinned, his eyes sparkling. "Lucky me. Plus, you gotta admit, Bones. We make some pretty awesome babies."

"That you do," McCoy agreed. "Lord help us."

xXx

Jim stood in the doorway to Marissa's office watching as she read through something on a PADD. She was biting her lip and randomly tapping a stylus against the desk, her brow furrowed as she focused. He loved watching her work, though he knew it embarrassed her sometimes. When she was concentrating, she entered her own little world. Nothing except a sound from Abby could get her attention. Jim had joked that he could do a striptease in front of her and she wouldn't even notice.

Clearing his throat for the second time, Jim waited for her to look up, but with no luck. Moving into the room, he sat down in the chair opposite her desk, crossed his ankle over his knee and waited some more.

Reaching for another PADD, Marissa happened to glance up and literally jumped when she realized Jim was sitting across from her.

"Jeez, warn a girl," she laughed self-consciously, her cheeks reddening. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"About ten minutes," Jim deadpanned.

"Bullshit," Marissa countered with a small smile.

"Okay, you got me," Jim laughed. "I've only been sitting here for a minute or two. But I was standing in the door for at least as long."

Marissa began straightening her desk, not looking over at him. "You should have said something," she told him.

"I did. I cleared my throat twice and you didn't even notice. I think I'm insulted," he pouted.

Marissa shook her head, hiding a grin. "I'm sorry I don't have a Pavlovian response at the sound of your throat clearing."

"Now that would be interesting," Jim laughed again. "I clear my throat and you get all hot and bothered and strip off all your clothes."

"Now that could be inconvenient, don't you think?" Marissa countered. "Not a good idea on a diplomatic mission or during a staff meeting, you get a little tickle and…"

Jim nodded, looking serious. "With great power comes great responsibility," he sagely.

"You goof," Marissa laughed. "Now, what are you doing down here?"

Jim winked playfully. "Can't a guy come visit his girl at lunchtime?"

Marissa looked quickly over at the clock. "It's lunchtime already?"

"Seriously, Mariss," Jim shook his head. "How did you survive before me? Did you eat at all?"

"Of course I ate," she countered. "It's just when I'm first looking into something I tend to get a little…caught up at times. Like you're one to talk!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Jim shook his head. "Pot meet kettle, and all that. At least we have each other. And Bones."

"What does Len have to do with us working and forgetting to eat?" Marissa asked curiously.

"I just meant we have someone else to look after us," Jim grinned. "My esteemed CMO paid me a visit this morning. It seems it has finally come to his attention that someone, meaning you, is three weeks late for their booster and he was wondering if I knew about it."

Marissa frowned. "I think I should be insulted. It's not like I would skip it without you knowing. I would never…"

"That's not what he meant," Jim interrupted her quickly, after all, the rumors had flown after the announcement of Abby's pending birth that Marissa had gotten pregnant on purpose in order to snare Jim. He'd never taken those rumors seriously, but they had cut Marissa pretty deeply. He was a fool to forget it. "He just wanted to know if we realized what we were getting into, having another baby."

"Of course we do," Marissa replied. "Did you tell him we talked about it?"

"Yes," Jim replied, just now realizing that Marissa might not find Bones' protests as funny as he did. Jim felt totally secure in his relationship and feelings for Marissa. He also knew about Bones' rocky past and the absolute shit storm of a divorce that sent the good doctor running to the stars. Marissa wasn't privy to the details of Bones' marriage and divorce, and while she should be secure in Jim's feelings, she still had moments of doubt that Jim couldn't really predict.

"I told Bones that we had talked about it and that we thought it was a good idea for Abby, and for us," he reassured her.

"Well, it took him long enough to realize that I'd skipped the booster," Marissa finally said. "I really expected him to confront you about it sooner."

"Me too," Jim grinned. "Just so you know, he thinks we're idiots and that we have no idea what we're getting into."

"Well, that's his opinion and he's welcome to it," Marissa said almost primly, straightening her desk and then standing up. "But he better watch what he says; friend or not, CMO or not, this is our decision, not his," she told Jim and he was suddenly a bit turned on by the fire in her eyes. "I'm hungry. Let's go eat."

"Yes, ma'am," Jim stood up. Grabbing her as she tried to walk past him, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately. "I love it when you get all protective and self righteous."

"Jim, he's your friend but he has no…"

He cut her off with another kiss, his hands sliding down her back to cup her bottom and pull her firmly against him. It didn't take much for her to relax into his body, her hands twining over his shoulders, one of them ruffling the hair on his neck. Still kissing, Jim's hands went from caressing to probing; sweeping over her hips and bottom with firm pressure; his fingers pressing intently, following the seams of her panties.

With a little moan, he pulled away, his hands now cupping her bottom and firmly holding her against his growing erection. "I thought I told you not to wear these panties while on duty," he told her, nuzzling her neck and making her wiggle against him.

"And I said I'd take it under advisement," Marissa replied, her teeth now biting at his earlobe.

"How am I supposed to work when I know you're wearing these," he rubbed his hand over her bottom again.

"You're a big boy," Marissa told him, grinning as he pulled away, her hand trailing down his chest and then over his erection, squeezing it. "You'll figure it out." Turning away she began to walk to the door. "Now let's go. I'm hungry."

"Hungry. Yes," Jim nodded emphatically. "I'm hungry."

"For food," Marissa replied with a wicked grin.

"Food is so overrated," Jim countered, reaching out for her again.

"Food first," Marissa said, avoiding his grasp. "Then… we'll see how much time we have left."

"I only need ten minutes, maybe five," Jim countered.

Marissa shook her head. She was now standing in the doorway looking back at him playfully. "I don't think five minutes is really worth it for me," she told him with an arched brow. "I'll think I'll just go have a nice lunch and…"

Jim came up to her, placing his hands on the door frame and leaning towards her. "I'll make it worth your while," he whispered. "And then I'll bring you lunch in bed."

"Hmmmmm," Marissa pretended to ponder. "We did just get the replicator card for that Cardassian soup that I like."

"Exactly," Jim said, leaning in further for quick kiss. "No need to go to the cafeteria."

"I guess not," Marissa agreed, reaching in to rub his hardness again. "But I don't think a captain should be walking the halls of his ship with a hard on. I'll meet you back at our rooms. Once you get things under control," she laughed as she pranced away, her hips twitching seductively. "Talk about a Pavlovian response," she said over her shoulder.

Jim actually growled as he watched her walk away, every instinct he had telling him to chase after her, but she was right. It wouldn't do for him to be seen walking around his ship with a major hard on. Now if he could just get himself under control, he'd show her a Pavlovian response once he got his mouth on her. He'd have her quivering and unable to speak by the time he was done.

_Please review_


	3. Chapter 3

**Complications**

**Chapter 3**

Stardate 2260.55

Jim entered their quarters to the sound of a loud crash and a "damn it Abigail Rose!" His eyebrows rose to his hairline. Marissa rarely swore and never around Abby. Abby wasn't taking it to heart, though, as he could hear her happily babbling in the kitchen.

"What's up?" he asked from the doorway, shoulder resting easily against the door frame as his eyes took in the chaos that was their eating area. Apparently Marissa had been trying to bake, there was flour, butter and what he assumed was cocoa powder all over the counters and floor. Abby had been occupying herself by emptying the lower cupboards until she had been restricted to her high chair and plied with snacks. Said snack of a bowl of fruit was currently resting upside down on the floor. Her crackers were about to follow, probably to land on her mother's back where she was kneeling to clean up the mess, when Jim gave Abby a stern look. "Abby, no," he told her in his firm daddy voice.

Not at all cowed, Abby smiled up at him, her mouth full of the remains of a cracker. "Dada!" she held her arms out for him.

"Are you being naughty, Abby girl?" Jim asked as he carefully crossed to her.

"No, no," Abby shook her head.

Marissa's only comment was a loud huff from where she was gathering the scattered pieces of fruit before they could be stepped on and squished.

Grabbing a towel from the table, Jim cleaned up Abby's hands and face before settling her onto his hip. "What's going on?" he asked Marissa gently, seeing the obvious tension in her shoulders and her back.

Sitting back on her heels, Marissa dropped her head back and looked up at the ceiling with a loud sigh. "I just wanted chocolate cake," she said hoarsely, her eyes blinking rapidly.

"And you couldn't have gone to the cafeteria or used the replicator?"

Jim's question earned him a fierce glare. "No. I could've, but I didn't because I didn't want replicated cake – it's not the same. And the cake in the cafeteria isn't nearly as good as Nana's and that's what I wanted."

"Okay," Jim nodded as if he understood. Chocolate cake was chocolate cake, wasn't it?

Rubbing angrily at her eyes, Marissa shook her head. "Look Jim, just… Just go. Take Abby and go have dinner. Eat some replicated cake, whatever, I don't care, just…" her shoulders slumped as her voice broke and Jim immediately reached out to her, but she shook him off. "I'm fine. I just need some time by myself."

"Okay," Jim replied hesitantly. Taking Abby into the living area he looked around for a moment. It wasn't any worse than usual. Abby's toys were a walking hazard and some of Marissa's PADDs were stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, but not near the amount of destruction as in the kitchen. Reaching for the remote to the entertainment unit, Jim set Abby down on the couch. "Want to watch Smooglies, Munchkin?" Abby nodded happily, clapping her hands. Jim and Marissa really tried to limit the amount of vids that Abby watched, but ever since Aurelan had introduced her to the Smooglies, Abby had been hooked. They used it as a reward and as a way to gain some quiet time.

Turning it on and selecting Abby's favorite episode, Jim dropped a kiss on her head and then went back into the battle zone… the kitchen.

"You really shouldn't be rewarding her bad behavior like that," Marissa pointed out tiredly. She'd managed to pick up all the fruit and was now sweeping up the floor.

"I know, but I figured it was more important to talk to you," he said, taking the vacu-sweeper from her hand. "What's up?" he asked, placing the device against the counter and putting his hands on Marissa's shoulders, squatting a little to try to get a good look at her face.

"Nothing," Marissa shook her head, not looking at him. "I'm just… tired. Out of sorts." She shrugged. "I've felt weird all day and I didn't sleep well last night and I just…" her hand swept out weakly towards the destruction of the kitchen. "I just wanted chocolate cake," she whispered brokenly.

"Ah, Mariss," Jim said softly. He sat down in a chair and pulled her unresistingly onto his lap, letting her cry softly against his chest as he rocked her gently. He held her and ran his hand through her hair as she shuddered against him, her hands gripping his shirt tightly. "Shh, it's okay. It's all right," he repeated over and over again until she eventually calmed down.

Pulling back and looking up at him sheepishly, Marissa gave him a watery smile. "I'm sorry, I'm just…"

"It's okay," Jim cut her off as he wiped away the tear streaks on her cheeks. "You're having a bad day. Nothing wrong with that. Now, why don't you go take a shower and go to bed? I know it's early," he continued before she could protest, "but you can read or watch a vid or something. I've got Abby and I've got the mess."

"I can help," Marissa offered, standing and reaching for the vacu-sweeper.

"No, I got it," Jim repeated. "She'll be occupied for another fifteen minutes. I can get this cleaned up." Standing again he kissed Marissa softly before pushing her out of the kitchen. "Go, shower, relax. No work stuff, got it?"

"Yeah, I got it," Marissa replied, reaching out and squeezing his hand. "Thanks."

Jim watched her leave, stopping to kiss a preoccupied Abby on the head before going to their room. He had the floor cleaned by the time he heard the water shower kick on. He wasn't surprised. Sonic showers weren't nearly as relaxing.

xXx

"So, what do you want for dinner, Abby?" Jim asked as he made his way to the food selection area. Marissa really didn't like Abby to eat replicated food if fresh was available, so he was looking over the fresh choices. "Potatoes?"

"Taters!" Abby agreed and Jim scooped some on her plate and his.

"Chicken or," he peered at the stewed meat, "beef-like substance?"

"Chick'n." Jim put some on Abby's plate and decided to brave the unknown meat for himself.

"Okay, now for some vegetables," he continued down the row. "Broccoli, t'faera, or gingorool?"

Abby made a face at the gingorool, for which Jim couldn't blame her. He didn't care how nutritious it was; it still had the look and consistency of overcooked spinach. She didn't object to the other two, so he added small helpings to her plate and his own.

"Cheez, dada," Abby reminded him, pointing to the bowl of grated cheese by the broccoli. He added a generous spoonful over her vegetables.

"Well, at least you're setting a good example for your daughter," McCoy's voice came from behind Jim's shoulder. "Nice to see some vegetables on your plate for once."

"Bones," Jim smiled at his friend.

"Unca Bwones!" Abby crowed, leaning out of her father's arms for McCoy to pick her up.

"Hello, Abby," McCoy smiled, taking her from Jim. "And what brings you to the cafeteria for dinner?" He looked over at Jim waiting for an answer.

Jim shrugged. "Marissa was having an off day, so I thought we'd give her some space." He looked over at McCoy's plate filled with chicken and potatoes with a small side salad. "Speaking of vegetables, looks like you need some. Have some gingorool." Without permission and with evil grin, Jim plopped an overly large spoonful of the vegetable onto his friend's plate.

"Yucky," Abby's nose scrunched up. Jim almost laughed to see the exact same look on McCoy's face.

"Now Uncle Bwones," Jim said playfully, "you want to be a good influence on your niece, don't you? Uncle Bones loves gingorool, Abby," he told his daughter. "Watch, he'll eat it all gone." Abby gave him a dubious look and Jim laughed again, grabbing his tray and McCoy's.

"Infant," McCoy muttered under his breath as he followed.

"She's a toddler now," Jim called back to him.

"I was referring to her father," McCoy shot back, causing Jim to laugh even more.

They settled on a medium size table at the back of the room; Abby perched on Jim's lap as she selected items from her plate to eat, while Jim ate one handed. To spite Jim, McCoy ate all of his gingorool with a great ostentatious show, much to his audience's disgust.

"So what put Marissa in a bad mood," McCoy asked midway through their meal.

Jim shrugged, offering Abby a forkful of his stewed meat which was actually pretty darn good. The way she gobbled it down and asked for more was a good sign. "I'm not really sure," he told McCoy. "She was trying to bake a chocolate cake and apparently things got a bit out of hand," he looked pointedly at Abby. "When I got there the counters and floor were covered in flour and cocoa powder, the lower cupboards were emptied and Abby was strapped into her high chair."

"I thought she preferred to sit in a booster or in a lap now," McCoy pointed out.

"She does, but we still use the high chair if we need to keep her in one place," Jim explained, "only this time it wasn't really working because she took her snack and dumped it onto the floor."

"Fwoot go oops," Abby nodded solemnly at McCoy as she maneuvered a piece of cheese covered broccoli into her mouth.

"Fruit didn't go oops, Abby made a mess," Jim said wryly, wiping some cheese off of Abby's cheek. Looking back at his friend he smiled slightly, though there was some worry in his eyes. "I walked in just as it happened, I guess. All I heard was a crash and then, 'damn it, Abigail Rose!' from Marissa. She didn't sound angry, just really frustrated."

"Hmmm," McCoy pushed back his tray. "That doesn't sound like Marissa."

"Actually, it sounds more like you," Jim grinned, before he became serious again. "She only swears when she's really upset – and usually at me. I've never heard her swear around Abby, let alone at her."

"Well, everyone has their limits," McCoy said thoughtfully. He stared over Jim's shoulder before looking back at Abby who was now squishing the t'faera buds between her fingers. "It's been about a couple months, hasn't it?" McCoy asked distractedly. "It's always so hard to tell the passing of time on this da…darn tin can."

Jim looked at him, nonplussed. "A couple months since what?"

"A couple months since she skipped that booster," McCoy explained somewhat patiently. "I'm guessing she's not pregnant. I think she's PMSing – moody, irritated, wanting chocolate."

"PMSing?" Jim questioned, his head cocked to the side. It sounded vaguely familiar.

"Premenstrual syndrome; PMS," McCoy told him. "With the type of birth controls available nowadays it's been virtually wiped out, but the symptoms are pretty straight forward – mood swings, irritability, difficulty sleeping, usually some bloating, body aches, especially of the lower back and belly, cravings for salt or chocolate. It can last a couple of days or up to a week before menstruation starts."

"You mean she feels like this because her period is about to start?" Jim clarified.

"That's what I said," McCoy told him.

"But she's already had it twice and it wasn't anything like this either time, though she did have some cramping the last time," Jim added thoughtfully. Sometimes it still surprised him that he was this… intimate with a woman. In the past if a female had told him anything about her cycle or her period he would have done an about face and walked away. He just didn't want to know. But now? It was a part of who Marissa was and if she was in pain or uncomfortable, he wanted to know and he wanted to be able to fix it.

McCoy shrugged. "Not surprising. Her body still had some traces of the booster, so they was milder. Now that she's missed two boosters…she's back to normal – whatever normal is for her."

"And women have to go through this every month?" he asked incredulously.

"They did," McCoy agreed, "until medical science was able to pin point the hormones and other factors and create birth control methods that not only stopped conception, but also controlled the hormone surges that were typical of menstrual cycles."

Jim thought about it for a minute, absently stopping Abby from destroying her dinner. "So she's not pregnant," he finally said softly.

McCoy shrugged, watching his friend closely. "Probably not," he agreed. "Every woman is different, maybe this is how she was with Abby, but the classic signs of pregnancy are nausea, breast sensitivity, tiredness, and cravings. Did she have any of that with…?" He looked pointedly at the child on Jim's lap.

Jim glared up at him. "I don't know how she felt when she realized she was pregnant with Abby," Jim said crossly. "I wasn't there, remember?"

"I know," McCoy said, holding his hands up. "I didn't mean… I just thought you might have discussed it at some point."

Jim shook his head. "Sorry," he said wryly. "It's a bit of sore spot with me, still. I don't know. She never mentioned nausea with this one," he stroked Abby's head. "And she didn't say anything about feeling nauseous now. Just the moodiness and wanting her Nana's chocolate cake."

"Well, it sounds like PMS to me, and I can give her a hypo for it," McCoy told him, pausing and looking at Jim pointedly. "It doesn't always happen right away. It could take more than a couple months, you know. You both have busy schedules and Abby to care for." 

"I know," Jim said. And he did know that. It was just… he was so looking forward to having another child, another baby, with Marissa. He wanted to be there for everything this time. Still, it surprised him how truly disappointed he was that she wasn't pregnant.

After dinner the three of them retired to Ten Forward where Abby enjoyed being the center of attention. She pranced around and she talked and performed like the good little Kirk that she was. Once Chekov entered the room, it was game over, though. She attached herself to him and wouldn't be pried away for any bribe. Chekov turned red at all the attention, but was happy enough to hold Abby. He chatted with Sulu and eventually they joined Jim and McCoy for a couple of rounds of poker. Normally people didn't play poker with Chekov – or Jim for that matter – but Abby was a distraction and more than evened the playing field as she grabbed cards and toppled chip piles.

As the evening wore on, Abby began to lean against Chekov more and more, her eyes alert as she watched the game and listened to Chekov's explanations as if she understood Russian, but her body slowly relaxing after a long day. It was after her third yawn that Jim finally called it an evening.

"I think someone is getting sleepy," Jim commented slyly. All eyes turned to Abby.

"I do feel a bit tired," Chekov nodded with a grin.

"No, ni ni," Abby shook her head, patting Chekov's hand. "Pasha stay."

Everyone chuckled.

"I didn't mean, Pasha, Abby girl. I meant you." Jim stood up. "I think it's time for bed."

"No! Stay wif Pasha!" Abby was suddenly clinging to the young man like a limpet.

"But Kotik," Chekov said gently, disentangling her fingers from his shirt. "I must sleep too. I am wery tired." He yawned widely.

"Can you give Pasha a hug goodnight?" Jim asked before he picked her up.

Wrapping her arms around him, Abby squeezed Chekov with her little arms. "Ni ni, Pasha."

"Good night, Kotik," Chekov replied, petting her hair and placing a small kiss on her forehead. "I will see you later, yes?"

"Uh huh," Abby nodded, going happily into her father's arms and snuggling her head against his shoulder, one hand coming up to grip the neck of his tunic.

"Say good night to Uncle Bones and Sulu, Abby girl," Jim directed.

Letting go of his tunic, Abby brought her hand to her mouth and waved it at McCoy. "Ni ni, Unca Bwones. Ni ni, Swulu," she repeated to the helmsman.

"Good night, Abby."

"Good night, Abby, sweet dreams.

"I'll see you guys later," Jim smiled before turning to leave.

Abby washed and changed into her pajamas without a fuss, her eyes drooping heavily. She asked for her mother once but was satisfied when Jim told her that mama was working. She dozed off during the requisite story, but woke enough as she was being put into her bed to request a song.

Quietly closing the connecting door between the bedrooms, Jim saw that Marissa was curled up in bed having already stolen his pillow. She'd left the bathroom light on for him, so he quickly went about his evening routine before shutting off the light and sliding into bed.

Before he was even lying flat Marissa turned over and looked at him with red rimmed, apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't know what's wrong with me tonight."

"Oh, Mariss," Jim sighed, sliding closer and pulling her into his arms. She immediately snuggled against him, resting an arm over his chest and nestling one leg between his.

"My mood is just all over the place and I'm tired and I can't seem to stop crying…"

"It's okay," Jim kissed her forehead. "Bones kinda explained it to me. Why didn't you just say you were starting your period?"

Marissa burrowed against him, for a moment. "Because I didn't want to believe it," she finally whispered. "And… I didn't want you to be disappointed."

"What?" Jim asked. "Why?"

"Because I'm not pregnant," Marissa replied, looking up at him with shiny eyes, before laying her head back down with a sad sigh.

"Ah, Mariss," Jim said softly, kissing her forehead. "It will happen when it happens. It's not like you have any control over it."

"I know."

"I guess we shouldn't have stopped you cold turkey," he said after a moment. "Bones says your hormones are going back to normal now that the booster is out of your system. Maybe he could've…"

"God Jim," Marissa pressed her forehead against his chest. "You better knock me up soon, I don't think I can take another month of this." They both chuckled and Jim started running his hand through her hair soothingly. "It's a bit more extreme than I ever remember feeling before my period. And I don't feel like I did when I was first pregnant with Abby." Jim gave a little hum in response, his fingers running through her hair. "This sucks."

"Apparently," Jim replied wryly, now moving his hand down her back in soothing circles.

"My head hurts, my back hurts," she began listing her complaints. "My stupid pants are too tight. I'm tired, my mood is all over the place. My belly is starting to cramp."

"You know what you need?" Jim asked with a little grin.

"A trip to medical to get a sedative?" Marissa asked.

"No," Jim shook his head. He waited for her to look up at him. "A really good orgasm," he finally told her.

"What? Now?" Marissa looked at him as if he was crazy. "I've never felt less sexy. Well, I have," she corrected herself. "Basically the whole last trimester when I was carrying Abby."

"And that didn't stop us," Jim smiled in memory. "I seem to recall being blamed because you went into labor with Abby just a few hours after we had sex."

"Well, it was your fault," Marissa reminded him.

"You didn't seem to be complaining at the time… on your knees, ass in the air, begging me to go faster and deeper."

Marissa blushed and pressed her face against Jim's chest, not willing to meet his knowing eyes. "Okay, you're right. At the time I wasn't exactly in a position," Jim snorted, "to complain, but now…"

"Have you started yet?" Jim asked. Marissa shook her head. "Seriously, it's an old wives' tale and all that, but what are we out if I'm wrong?"

"You just want to have sex," Marissa accused with a small smile.

"I'll never say no to you," Jim agreed. "But I also want you to feel better and if an orgasm and a good hard screw will do it…" he looked at her with raised eyebrows, waiting for her answer.

"It could get messy," Marissa hesitated.

"We'll change the sheets and take a shower," Jim countered.

She shook her head, "I don't know if I'd be able to relax enough for you to use your mouth on me," she finally said. "And I really like that."

"Hey," Jim protested, "I'm not a one hit wonder. I've got hands and fingers and a working knowledge of the female anatomy. Let Dr. Jim help you out and then tomorrow you can go to medical and get a hypo." His hand was already sweeping down her body, to cup her bottom, then coming around to her front to caress one of her breasts. "Come on, Mariss. Mouth and tongue above the waist. Hands below. What've you got to lose?"

Leaning up on an elbow, Marissa smiled fondly down at Jim, shaking her head. "Do you actually have a license to practice, Dr. Jim?"

"I've got all the qualifications you need," he grinned up at her, before sitting up and maneuvering her onto her back. "You can lodge any complaints later," he told her, as he pulled down the covers to expose her breasts. "Much later, when I'm done with you."

_Please Review_

_Author's note: Here's a little something you guys probably didn't know about me, but each of the previous pairings that I've written about in fanfiction (Mulder/Scully, Harry/Ginny and Danny/Kate – an OFC for Pearl Harbor) have each had a song specific to their relationship. Jim and Marissa haven't had one until recently. There have been songs where I'm like – 'that sounds good, but…' or 'maybe, but not quite,' but there wasn't one song that made me say: 'this is Jim and Marissa's song' until I got a review from chaoticmom who mentioned a little song called __**This**__ by Darius Rucker. It's perfect and on continuous loop in my car. You can find it on YouTube if you want to, but the whole CD is good – and this coming from a girl who went to college in Seattle in the early Nineties! _

_Thank you chaoticmom! I am forever in your debt for this._


	4. Chapter 4

**Complications **

**Chapter 4**

**Stardate 2260.60**

Jim looked around their quarters nervously. He'd had crewmember Michaels spruce it up a bit, putting away Abby's toys and generally dusting and straightening. While he appreciated that Marissa didn't care for someone being in their rooms and picking up after them, he was well aware that neither of them really had the time to seriously clean.

The table was set, there was a nice arrangement of flowers as a centerpiece – he'd have to thank Sulu for that later, and soft music was playing. Everything was ready. Dinner should arrive in an hour, there was a bottle of Marissa's favorite wine chilling and he'd made sure to stock up on her favorite after dinner aperitif. Not that he wanted to get her drunk, he just wanted her to relax. And truth be told, he needed the alcohol to relax himself.

Tonight he was giving her the second piece of jewelry that he'd bought for her on Stratnon and it was a bit more on the expensive side than the previous gift. He'd chickened out on giving her the necklace a few weeks earlier. Instead he'd gone with the earrings; nice, conservative quarter karat fire diamonds. He hadn't made a big production of it. He'd slipped them into her small jewelry box on the bathroom counter as she was showering along with a white and red rose. He stood restlessly in the bedroom while he listened to her putter through her morning routine: moisturize, make up, clothes, hair and…

Her surprised calling of his name made him smile. It had been pitched two octaves higher than usual. She'd opened the door to find him leaning against the dresser smiling at her sheepishly.

"Happy anniversary," he'd told her softly.

She looked between the small packet holding the earrings and Jim, her eyes shimmering and her mouth agape. "Anniversary?" she asked him in confusion.

"Yeah, anniversary," Jim smiled, walking over to her. "Two years since we first slept together, or two years since Abby was conceived, take your pick. I thought you females were supposed to be the ones to remember these types of things."

"I…I…," she glanced down at the fire diamonds, a single tear streaking down her cheek. "They're beautiful," she said in a thick voice. "And expensive."

"Not really," Jim replied, taking the earring packet and removing one. "I didn't want to get too big of a stone – wouldn't really work with the uniform, and I know how you prefer smaller earrings so…" As he was speaking he gently inserted one earring and then the other. "Just big enough."

Slowly, Marissa's hand came up to feel her new earring. "But Jim, they're fire diamonds."

He shrugged. "They look good on you."

She blushed and smiled up at him, her eyes still shimmering as he wiped away another escaped tear. "Thank you," she whispered, leaning into the palm of his hand where it rested against her cheek. "But I didn't get you anything."

Jim smiled. "You gave me Abby. I think you're ahead in the gift giving count."

"Thank you," she said again, thickly, wrapping her arms around his neck and tucking her head under his chin. "Thank you. They're…beautiful. And you're wonderful. Thank you."

"Believe me," Jim said, pulling back slightly and tipping up her chin with one finger, "it is my pleasure," he whispered against her lips before kissing her soundly. It was only then he realized the mistake in giving her his gift in the morning. He had wanted to surprise her, but he had conveniently forgotten that they both had to be on shift. Still, she had more than made up for it that night, he remembered with a smile.

The chiming of the door brought Jim's attention back to the present.

"Dada!" Abby crowed, running at him and latching onto his legs.

"Hey munchkin," he laughed, lifting her up and giving her a kiss. "Are you ready to spend the night with Nyota and Mr. Spock? Thanks for picking her up, by the way." He smiled over at Uhura who was standing in the doorway.

Abby nodded her head enthusiastically and began babbling in the way only she could telling him about her guys and her piano and how Spa' was going to play for her. She was obviously excited about her coming evening.

"Mama?" she finally asked, looking around the room.

"Mama's working," Jim told her. "Would it be okay if you saw mama in the morning, Abby girl?" She nodded, though Jim wasn't sure she understood what he was asking. "Why don't you go get Sehlat and your blankie while I talk to Nyota."

"'kay," she agreed as he set her down. Jim couldn't help smiling as he watched her race to her room.

"I don't think she'll miss us," Jim chuckled.

"We'll comm. you if she gets upset," Uhura replied. "Nice set up, Captain," she added with a smile, clearly approving of the flowers and soft music. "Does Marissa even have a clue?"

"I don't think so," Jim answered. "She's been so busy with the Alpha Bellatrix situation that she barely has time to eat."

"She does get lost in her work, sometimes," Uhura agreed.

"Thanks for doing this," Jim told her as Abby came out of her room dragging her blanket and carrying her Sehlat and three other stuffed animals. "I packed her bag and gave it to Spock earlier."

"It's not a problem, honestly," Uhura smiled, holding a hand out for Abby. "We enjoy having her. Come along Miss. Abigail. Say goodbye to daddy and we'll see him in the morning."

"Bye dada!" she waved happily, blowing him a kiss.

"Bye Abby," Jim replied, smiling widely. "Have fun and don't bug Mr. Spock too much."

"Bye Jim," Uhura said, rolling her eyes. "Have a nice night."

"You too. And thanks again."

Jim was just rechecking the temperature of the wine when Marissa finally wandered into their quarters looking a bit bedraggled.

"Jim? Abby?" she called, dropping off her PADDs and kicking off her shoes. She stilled as she took in the more than elaborate set up on the dining table and then cocked her head as she caught the music playing in the background.

"Happy Birthday," Jim smiled, coming forward to give her a kiss.

She looked at him, nonplussed. "Birthday?" she asked, her mind whirling. "I guess it is," she laughed. "I'd completely forgotten. After all these years I still don't always get stardates."

"Yeah, I noticed," Jim agreed.

"So where's Abby?"

"She's with Uhura and Spock for the night," Jim told her, still holding her close to him. "We can go over and visit if you want, but she seemed very excited about her sleepover. Uhura will comm. us if she decides to get fussy."

Marissa sighed, sinking into Jim's warmth as he massaged her shoulders and back with firm sweeping strokes of his hands. "No, if she's happy, then I'm good," came Marissa's muffled reply, her face planted in Jim's chest.

"So, you have some time before dinner arrives," Jim said, pulling back slightly. "Why don't you go relax in a warm shower and then change into something more comfortable?"

Marissa cocked an eyebrow at him. "When you say 'more comfortable' you mean?" she asked curiously, a twinkle in her eye.

"I mean casual," Jim said, grabbing he shoulders and spinning her around towards the door to their bedroom. "I can't have you eating dinner in nothing but your underwear." He leaned down, his lips close to her ear, "we have all night," he whispered seductively. Then he pushed her away and gave a light smack on her bottom. "Now go, before I change my mind."

Marissa laughed as she sauntered away, her hips swishing back and forth for him. Jim poured himself a shot of whiskey as he listened to the shower turn on. He was not going to interrupt his plans for the evening, no matter how tempting the idea of a wet and steamy Marissa was.

Within in forty minutes Marissa joined him again. She'd changed into a pair of comfortable black pants that did amazing things for her ass and a loose sweater the color of sea foam that Jim had always liked. And, from the little smirk she gave him when he handed her a glass of wine, it was a pretty good bet she was wearing more than standard issue undergarments under her clothes.

"So, what is on your agenda for the evening, Captain?" Marissa grinned at Jim as she took sip of her wine.

"Actually," Jim replied, sitting down on the couch next to her, "nothing much. Dinner, some wine; we can watch that vid you were interested in. We can talk. Just spend some time together without the munchkin beneath our feet."

"That sounds nice," Marissa agreed, pulling the quilt over her lap and curling her feet underneath her. "Do you ever wonder how we'll handle two?"

"All the time," Jim said wryly.

"Enough to make you change your mind?"

"No."

"Good," Marissa replied.

"Good meaning?" Jim perked up for a minute. "Are you?"

Shaking her head, Marissa gave him an apologetic look. "No, not yet. Didn't mean to get your hopes up. My body is so messed up from coming off the booster that I don't even know what part of my cycle I'm in. I think my last period was…" she cocked her head, trying to think back, "when you had to go deal with the Fegeans. That was…three weeks ago? Two? I don't know."

"Hmmm…" Jim thought. "That was 2260.55, so about two weeks, a bit more. I'm pretty sure it was a Thursday when I left."

"Anyway, it might be too late this month," Marissa shrugged.

"Or it might be just right," Jim countered with a smile, knowing that now that they had made the decision they were impatient for things to happen.

"I think we have to do more than just sleep in the same bed in order for Deuce to make an appearance," she said with a small laugh. "And lately that's all we've been doing - if we're even in bed at the same time."

Jim nodded in agreement. He'd been on gamma shift for a week while they had been coordinating with the Fegeans. It was no fun dealing with a species that ran on forty-two hour days.

The chime of the door interrupted whatever Jim was going to say.

"Dinner is here," he said, standing up and going to release the door. Crewmember Michaels entered. Nodding politely at Marissa he deposited two boxes onto the dining table, one large and flat, the other square.

"Pizza!" Marissa gasped excitedly. "Mine!" she declared, leaping off the couch.

Michaels laughed as he left.

"Thank you!" Marissa called after him, already opening the box and breathing in the heavenly scent of tomatoes and cheese.

"Now, you have to share," Jim said patiently, handing her a plate. "Meat lovers for me, pepperoni and olives for you."

"I can eat meat lovers. I don't have a problem with that," Marissa said, taking her plate and going back over to the couch. "Oh, yum," she sighed as she took her first bite.

Jim just watched her and smiled, filling up his own plate.

"The table!" Marissa suddenly declared, realizing it was set. "I should…"

"Stay," Jim told her. Grabbing his plate, he deposited the pizza box onto the coffee table. "This isn't exactly fine dining."

"But…"

"No, this is fine," Jim said before reaching for the vid remote. "Now how about watching that vid you wanted. Cartrupian Girls Gone Wild."

"Cartrupian Sunsets," Marissa corrected him with a mock glare. "And it won several awards…"

"Shush," Jim told her, staring pointedly at the screen. "I'm watching a movie."

"Idiot," Marissa said fondly, snuggling into Jim's side as she continued to eat her pizza.

The movie wasn't as bad as he had feared. It was a romantic drama, not his usual choice of film and it probably would have made a bit more sense if he knew anything about the marriage rituals and caste system of Cartrupia, but Marissa was teary eyed and smiling by the end. He actually enjoyed cuddling with her more than the movie and if his mind had strayed to figuring out the shore leave rotation for next month, Marissa didn't need to know.

"Thanks for that," Marissa said, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I know it's not what you usually watch."

"It wasn't that bad," Jim shrugged. "Honest," he said at her incredulous look. Leaning down, he kissed her. "I'm willing to watch anything if I get to hold you."

Marissa laughed. "Jim, you're just a big romantic aren't you?"

"Don't tell anyone," he whispered. "It will ruin my image. Can you imagine what Spock would say?"

Leaning forward, Marissa chuckled. "Is there any pizza left?" she asked as she poked at the box, not quite able to reach it.

"I think there's a couple slices," Jim told her. "Are you sure you want to eat it?"

"Jim, it's pizza! Of course I want to eat it."

He held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying, this is a birthday celebration and chef did send another box…"

"Cake?" Marissa looked over at him excitedly. "You got me a cake?"

"Of course I did."

"Chocolate cake?"

Jim looked at her sheepishly. "Well…" he began hesitantly.

"Any cake you give me will be wonderful," Marissa backpedaled. "I…"

"Of course it's chocolate," Jim laughed, winking at her. "But I'm glad that you would accept other flavors."

Marissa took a swipe at his shoulder, as she made her way to the square box on the table. "Good, because I really like chocolate cake."

"I might have noticed," Jim agreed sagely. "Just please say that I don't have to sing."

"You don't have to sing," she told him. "Can I open it?"

"Go ahead," Jim told her, coming to stand next to her.

Lifting the lid, Marissa gave an ahhh of appreciation. It was a chocolate cake with chocolate butter cream icing just like Jim had asked for, but chef had really outdone himself with the decorations. There were blue rosebuds with silver leaf leaves. The sides were decorated with climbing ivy vines and the number twenty five was painted onto spun sugar.

"Happy twenty-fifth birthday," Jim told her, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "I hope they were good."

"They definitely were," Marissa agreed, leaning into him.

"I hope the next twenty-five are even better."

She turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Well, they're starting off pretty damn good," she told him before kissing him passionately. "Thank you, Jim," she whispered when she finally pulled away, slightly breathless and once again teary eyed.

"Like I said, it's my pleasure," Jim replied, placing a kiss on her nose. "Now cut the cake, I'm hungry again."

"Yes, sir," Marissa laughed. Taking the serving knife, Marissa cut two generous pieces of cake for them. This time they sat at the table while they ate. Jim picking at his slice as he watched Marissa attack hers. She carefully cut each bite with her fork, making sure to have both cake and frosting on each forkful. He gave up all pretense of eating when she began to lick the remaining frosting off her fork, and then ran a finger over her plate and then put her finger in her mouth and sucked it off.

"Do you know it is utterly pornographic how you eat cake?" Jim practically growled.

Marissa smiled impishly and nodded at his half finished slice. "You going to eat that?"

Not saying a word, he slid it across the table and watched as she finished it off, paying particular attention to the way she almost performed fellatio on his fork, licking away all remains of the frosting.

"Jesus," Jim whispered.

"Nyota's not the only one with a talented tongue," Marissa told him seductively as she leaned across the table towards him.

"She told you that, did she?" Jim asked, not sure whether to be embarrassed or not.

"Uh huh," Marissa nodded. "She said as a pick up line it was one of the better ones, seeing as you actually knew what she was talking about. Not what she expected from some hick from Iowa."

"Ouch," Jim grinned.

"She talks tough, but Nyota actually likes you."

"If you say so, but I'd rather not be talking about her right now."

"What would you like to talk about then?" Marissa asked, sitting back primly and looking for all the world like an interested school girl.

Smiling, Jim stood up and walked around the table. Taking her hand, he helped Marissa stand and then moved her chair to the side. Without a word, he reached down and undid her pants, slowly sliding them and her silky panties down her legs. "I don't want to talk," he told her, leaning down for a kiss. "I want my dessert."

"Oh really?" Marissa grinned against his lips. She managed to kick off her pants. "And what would that be?"

"You," Jim replied, kneeling down while urging her to sit on the table. Lifting one of her legs, he placed her foot onto her chair. "Now just sit back and relax."

"Sure, Jim," she moaned as he leaned forward.

A half hour later, they were a sweaty mess on the couch, Marissa astride Jim's lap, as they panted and came down from their orgasmic high.

"Ohhh, this is one we have to remember," Marissa sighed lifting her head up from where it rested against Jim's shoulder.

"Better angle?" Jim asked, his head resting against the back of the couch as his hand swept lazily over her hips and thighs.

"Yeah," Marissa hummed contentedly.

After bringing her off while she was leaning against the table, Jim had spun her around and dropped his pants, entering her from behind. It had felt good, but it wasn't quite right and Marissa had said so. Looking around she had pushed him towards the couch. Slumped so that his ass was almost off the couch, Marissa had eased herself onto him and proceeded to perform a slow grind that eventually brought them both to mind blowing orgasms. It helped that with Marissa on top and doing most of the work, Jim's hands and mouth were free to roam – touching and licking wherever he could reach, which was quite a lot.

"I have to agree," Jim grinned. "It was quite a show. But now my back says it's time to get up and move this to the bedroom."

Leaning down, Marissa kissed him before looking around. "Tissue?"

"Uh…" Jim glanced around, on the coffee table and end table. "Not that I can see. Just stand up."

Marissa gave him an exasperated look. "Jim, I am not putting a stain on this couch. It's bad enough how many times we have to change the bed some weeks."

"Fine," Jim huffed, reaching down to the floor for his shirt. "Here," he handed it to her. "I go through more shirts this way."

"Better shirts than a stained couch," Marissa told him, "or I could just ease up a little and then you could be the messy one."

"No, that's okay," Jim said, holding her hips firmly in place. "The shirt works fine."

"I thought so," Marissa smirked as she levered herself off him. "I'll meet you in bed."

Grabbing for his discarded underwear, Jim nodded as he cleaned himself off. Standing, he checked to make sure the couch was still pristine and then gathered their clothes from around the room. Once in their bedroom he tossed them onto the floor near the dirty clothes chute, grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and slid into bed.

They snuggled for a while. Neither of them was really sleepy, just totally relaxed, but as the minutes passed, Jim felt himself begin to tense. They'd had a birthday dinner and a movie; they'd had chocolate cake and mind blowing birthday sex. The only thing left was his present and it was making him more nervous than he expected.

The earrings had been relatively easy to give her – and to brush off their cost. But the necklace was another story. It was simple and not at all ostentatious, but it was obviously expensive. The chain was platinum, but it was the pendant that had caught Jim's eye when he'd been browsing.

From where the pendant attached to the necklace, three increasingly larger fire diamonds, like the matching earrings, dropped vertically to a platinum stylized rose at the center of which was a full karat fire diamond nestled next to a sapphire that the clerk said matched Jim's eyes. It was a simple design, but obviously expensive and when Jim had seen it, he had to have it. The rose seemed like a perfect match, since it was Marissa's – and Abby's – middle name, but it was the two stones at the center that really sealed the deal for Jim.

He really hoped she liked it, because he'd had the jeweler make a matching ring; a sapphire and fire diamond surrounded by smaller stones, set in a platinum band.

"What's up?" Marissa asked, peering up at him curiously. "You're thinking too loud."

Jim cleared his throat and smiled down at her. "Well, I was thinking that we've had dinner and dessert and now it's time for presents."

"Presents?" Marissa's eyes lit up and Jim had to laugh. She could be such a kid sometimes. "Awesome! The pizza and the cake were perfect. I wasn't expecting anything else." Sitting up, she tucked the sheets under her arms since she wasn't wearing anything else.

Jim gave her a wounded look. "You think I wouldn't get you a present for your birthday?" Getting out of bed he left their bedroom and went into their office, rummaging around.

"I honestly didn't think about it," Marissa told him when he returned, "since I forgot it was my birthday. But I would have been perfectly happy with the pizza and cake." She reached out and stroked his arm, smiling up at him.

Seeing how happy she obviously was, some of Jim's tension eased. He didn't need to give her anything extravagant to make her happy, he was just glad that he could.

"Here," he said, handing her the badly wrapped package, as he sat back down on the bed. "It's a little something to go with your anniversary present."

At the mention of her anniversary present, Marissa's hand went to her earlobe and the fire diamond that was there. "To go with…" her eyes widened as she looked at the package and then back at Jim, her excitement obvious. He knew the earrings had been a big topic for the gossips around the ship when she started wearing them. He'd even heard a couple of the males on the ship grumbling about the captain setting the standards too high for making their girlfriends happy, but he didn't care. He loved seeing Marissa wearing them.

With a shaky hand Marissa carefully removed the paper until the black square box, bearing the jewelers emblem was resting in her hands. Glancing over at him briefly, she slowly opened it.

"Oh my god, Jim," she gasped, one hand coming to cover her mouth as she stared at the necklace. Hesitantly she reached down and stroked the pendant, her finger circling the fire diamond and sapphire. "It's beautiful," she finally whispered. When she finally looked at him her eyes were shiny with tears. "Oh my god."

"It caught my eye because of the rose," Jim told her, running one hand through his hair in embarrassment as he watched a tear fall down her cheek. "I was just going to get the earrings, but…"

"It matches your eyes," she said softly, tracing the sapphire and looking up at Jim.

"Yeah, that's what the clerk said," Jim told her sheepishly. "And I thought, well, if the sapphire was me… and the fire diamond was you…" he trailed off, not able to look at her any longer. He felt uncomfortable. How could a couple of stones represent him and Marissa? How stupid did that really sound? He'd never been a romantic, not really, but now… He could feel his face heating up.

"Put it on me," Marissa finally said, holding out the necklace.

Taking it from her trembling fingers, Jim moved closer. Fiddling with the clasp as Marissa held up her hair, Jim finally managed to get it hooked. Sitting back, he settled the pendent so that it lay perfectly between her breasts, resting near her heart.

"It's beautiful," Marissa told him shakily, her hand coming up to rest gently on the necklace. "Thank you."

"It's just a necklace," Jim said uncomfortably. "It's beautiful because you're wearing it."

"Oh, Jim," Marissa whispered. Her cheeks were covered in tears, but she was smiling at him and he knew she understood. "Thank you," she said once again, before launching herself into his arms. "I love it."

Pulling back from her embrace, Jim gently wiped away her tears, smiling like a fool. "I'm glad," he finally told her, a lump in his throat, before he leaned forward and kissed her with all the feeling that he could muster.

_Please review_


	5. Chapter 5

**Complications**

**Chapter 5**

**Stardate: 2260.62**

"So Spock," Jim asked, swinging in his seat as they waited for the rest of the command team to arrive for their meeting. "What's the deal with Marissa needing to be here? Something come in I haven't seen?"

Spock looked over at him dryly. "Apparently, Captain," he replied, his eyebrow slightly cocked. "I forwarded the pertinent information to your PADD this morning."

"I saw it," Jim told him, "but I haven't had time to look it over. Why don't you summarize it for me while we're waiting?" He grinned charmingly.

"There was not much information, just an addendum asking for Lieutenant O'Donnell's presence and stating that more information will follow shortly," Spock said concisely, his face blank.

"Any guesses?" Jim prompted, twirling his chair all the way around. Spock pursed his lips and Jim's grin widened. "I mean we're scheduled to pick up Ambassador DuPree and take her home. I'm really not looking forward to that, by the way," Jim said seriously, his elbows now on the table as he leaned towards Spock. "Pike gave me a warning that she is bit… hands on, so you've gotta stay with me, got it Spock?"

"Yes Captain," Spock nodded. "I do not believe we will be changing our destination. Ambassador DuPree was most insistent on the _Enterprise_ providing her with transportation."

Jim sighed heavily knowing that Spock didn't mean the _Enterprise_ was what Ms. DuPree wanted, but Jim instead. She wouldn't be the first planetary leader that had pulled rank and requested the _Enterprise_ only in order to meet and talk with him. Most had been polite and interested in his career and his actions. This one didn't seem like the type. From what he'd heard through the grapevine and what he'd learned from Pike, he was going to have to keep someone with him at all times. Ms. DuPree sounded like someone who wanted something a bit more personal than just some of his time.

"I do know that it was Admiral Franks who requested her presence," Spock interrupted Jim's thoughts.

"Shit," Jim mumbled as the others began to enter the room. He really didn't know what to think about that little development.

"Exactly, Captain," Spock agreed as he stood to greet the others.

Marissa entered with Uhura and immediately looked for Jim, giving him a small smile and a questioning look, to which Jim shrugged. He had no idea why she was here and the more he thought about it the more worried he became.

The meeting went as expected at first. It was prerecorded since they were far enough away from a primary base that face to face communications wasn't practical. When the communiqué turned to Marissa's presence things quickly became tense as everyone started looking surreptitiously between Jim and Marissa. Marissa was diligently taking notes, but occasionally looking over at Jim with a worried expression as he continued to glower at the screen and Admiral Franks.

There was a brief pause as the recording ended and the lights came back to 100%. The room was silent, everyone waiting for Jim to say something. Usually it was a flippant "Well now we officially know what we already knew, so let's get back to work." This time it was Marissa who broke the silence when Jim seemed unwilling to.

"Mr. Spock, I'll need the data package that the Admiral mentioned as soon as it arrives. And I'll need to shelve the report on Alpha Bellatrix that I promised by the end of the week," she said efficiently, not looking away from the first officer.

"That should not be a problem," Spock nodded, already typing on his PADD.

"No," Jim finally said loudly.

"Captain," Spock said, looking up from his typing.

"Jim," Marissa said softly, a look of warning in her eyes.

Holding up his hand, Jim looked around at everyone else. "You know what needs to be done. Dismissed. Spock, Lieutenant O'Donnell, please stay."

McCoy, Scotty, Sulu, Chekov and Uhura quickly filed out of the room. McCoy gave Marissa a reassuring squeeze as he passed by.

When the door closed behind them, Jim turned to Spock. "I'd like to prepare a return communiqué."

"Captain…"

"Jim, you can't do that," Marissa protested, interrupting Spock.

"I'm the captain and I'll decide what to do and what not to do," he replied sternly, his expression and voice firm.

"I know that," Marissa replied calmly, "but Franks out ranks you. I go where he says."

"It's bullshit," Jim argued. "We talked with that M'Qtobauan ambassador on Stratnon. They don't want help and the situation is volatile enough that sending you alone is stupid."

"Like you would let me go without a security detail," Marissa said under her breath.

"That's beside the point," Jim narrowed his eyes. "I don't see why I should send any of my crew into a potentially dangerous situation when there is nothing to be gained from it."

"You don't know that," Marissa countered. "And what about Len on Kulla V?" she countered, her arms crossed as she glared right back at him.

"That was different. He was sent down there to give actual aide during a medical emergency, not to simply observe and report. And the _Enterprise_ never broke orbit. We didn't leave him and his team there without support."

"I won't be able to solve their problems," Marissa said calmly, though she continued to stare pointedly at Jim, "but I will be able to gather information that will help Starfleet and the Federation figure out how best to approach them, or not. We only spoke to one person on Stratnon, Jim. We don't really know if his is the majority opinion or not. Starfleet may be able to help them. Or maybe they really don't want or need our help. That's why I need to go."

"Why you?"

"You know exactly why me," Marissa said wryly, crossing her arms and looking at him like he was a simple child. "Franks is testing you. Testing us. Now that the Admiralty knows that we're together and we have emphatically stated that we are not letting our relationship affect the ship, he's challenging you to prove it."

"I don't like it," Jim reiterated, running a hand through his hair and glaring at Marissa. "It's not right."

"While it is rare for a ship to leave behind a member of its crew except in medically necessary situations, it is not unheard of," Spock finally spoke. "And Lieutenant O'Donnell is particularly suited for this mission."

"Fine, I agree she's suited," Jim snapped. "We drop her off, hang around for a week or two; run some drills, do inventory or something and then pick her up."

Marissa shook her head. "Jim, the presence of the _Enterprise_ in the system, especially in orbit around M'Qtobau is more likely to raise tensions than help."

"Yet we're supposed to leave you there?" Jim asked incredulously.

"It's about appearances. You know that," Marissa argued. "The Federation sends in their preeminent xenohistorian who's been getting all kinds of press for her cultural sympathies and who also just happens to be stationed on the most well known ship in the fleet captained by Starfleet's golden boy – you."

"That doesn't sound arrogant at all," Jim huffed.

"It's not arrogant, it's how it looks," Marissa countered. "Starfleet is taking the M'Qtobauans seriously by sending the best, but conceding to their wishes by giving them space."

"And if everything goes pear shaped?" Jim demanded hotly. "If it does it will just be an overeager xenohistorian who was politely invited to visit M'Qtobau by a high ranking official and Starfleet generously granted her request once she asked to go."

"True," Marissa agreed, nodding slowly. "If anything goes wrong then Starfleet has an out. This is a military organization, Jim. I've been in it long enough to know how the politics work. In order to get me on the planet it has to be seen as my idea at the request of a native. Starfleet can't go sending people in for the hell of it when tensions are this high."

Jim stared at her speculatively for a long moment. "You want to go," he said slowly, almost accusingly.

"Professionally? Yes I do," Marissa agreed with a sigh. "It's my job, Jim. It's what I've always wanted to do and it's a way for me to actually try to help – whether it's being able to offer Federation aid or telling the Federation to back out and mind their own business. I might be able to help the M'Qtobauans. It's also a chance to gather information for the database; exchanging information freely is an important step in opening a dialogue with a planet. We can learn about them and maybe they can learn more about us, but in order to start all this I have to be there."

Jim snorted. "Fucking database," he muttered under his breath.

Marissa ignored him. "Personally, though?" she continued. "No, I don't want to go at all. I don't want to leave you and Abby."

"Then don't," Jim countered, pouncing on her admission. "This will only work if you make a formal request. Don't do it."

"It's my job. I have to."

As if a switch had been flipped, Jim's eyes shuttered. All emotion drained form his face – anger, frustration, desperation. "Fine," he nodded coolly. "Spock, how long will it take to reach M'Qtobau once we put in a course change?"

Spock took a moment to input information onto his PADD. "Approximately fifty-two hours, Captain, depending on what time you want to arrive during the M'Qtobau's daily cycle."

"Okay. Plan for us to arrive mid morning local time," Jim ordered. "Dismissed."

Spock nodded, before standing and exiting immediately.

"Jim…" Marissa began softly, still seated at the table.

"I said dismissed, Lieutenant," Jim replied, not bothering to look up from the PADD he had grabbed. "I believe you have a lot of work to do and not a lot of time."

"Fine, be a stubborn ass," Marissa muttered under her breath. Standing abruptly she gathered her things."

"What was that, Lieutenant?" Jim asked, his eyes narrowed.

"You heard me, Captain," she said bitterly before turning and walking out of the room.

xXx

Marissa spent the rest of the day working in the library going over Starfleet's notes and recommendations about M'Qtobau, putting together a plan of action for when she was on planet, and coordinating with Spock and Lieutenant Commander Roose to cover her duties on board the _Enterprise _while she was gone. She was late picking up Abby from daycare, but Abby didn't seem to mind.

Marissa was happy to see her daughter and just glad that her day was almost over, even if it brought her that much closer to leaving. Jim was conveniently busy, so she and Abby enjoyed a casual dinner together in their quarters. Afterward, while Abby played she read over the mission brief again. She really didn't want to go and she was afraid that it was just going to be a wasted effort, but she didn't see any way out of it without stirring up the pot back at Starfleet command.

When bedtime rolled around and Jim still hadn't returned yet, Marissa's simmering temper began to percolate. She understood him not wanting her to go – hell, she really didn't want to go, either. She knew it was just a power play by Dekker and his lapdog Franks to see if they would play along. She also knew, after getting more official and unofficial information, that there wasn't a damn thing having her on planet would actually do for the M'Qtobauans or the Federation. She knew that. Spock knew that. And she was pretty damn sure Jim knew it, too, but she still had to go because it was her job. She didn't stop Jim from doing his job; he had no right to pout about her doing hers.

The door to Abby's room slid open just as she finished Abby's bedtime story.

"Dada," Abby said, her bottle still clenched between her teeth as she stretched out her arms for Jim to pick her up.

"Hey Abby girl," he smiled, giving her a buss on the cheek. "Looks like you're ready for bed."

"At least you didn't miss bedtime," Marissa couldn't help commenting snidely, standing up from the rocking chair and trying to leave the room. Jim's hand on her arm stopped her.

"I was busy," Jim began looking slightly sheepish.

"Spare me, Jim," Marissa replied coolly, stepping away from him and letting his hand fall. "Good night, baby girl." She moved near to place a quick kiss on Abby's cheek.

"Marissa," Jim called after her, his voice firm and all traces of earlier sheepishness gone.

Marissa ignored him and walked out the door and into their bedroom.

"Dada song," Abby distracted Jim, grabbing his face with one hand and directing it back to look at her.

"Of course, Abby girl," Jim said as the door slid closed. "What would you like?"

Alone in their bedroom, Marissa almost screamed in frustration, but managed to control herself, knowing that Jim would hear her and it would probably scare Abby. She wasn't going to let his little avoidance routine get to her. She was doing her job and if he wanted to pout like a child about it, he could.

By the time Jim was done with Abby, Marissa had hurried through her nighttime routine and was in bed, her back to the door and the covers drawn up over her shoulders.

Jim entered the room quietly and stared down at her. "You know, I really was busy," he finally said to her back.

"I'm sure you were," Marissa replied tonelessly. "You are the captain, after all. Still, it never stopped you from contacting me and letting me know before."

"I'm sorry," he said with a frustrated sigh. If she had to guess, Marissa would have bet that he was running his hand through his hair and making it stand on end.

"Fine," she replied.

"That's it? Just fine?" Jim countered, his anger beginning to come out in his tone.

"What do you want me to say?" Marissa asked tiredly, still not moving to face him. "You were busy. You missed dinner. Okay. It's not the first time it's happened. I'm sure it won't be the last."

"That's not what this is about and you know it," Jim bit out.

"I know," Marissa agreed, "but I'm not the one with the problem here."

"And I am?"

"Yes, you are. You're acting like a spoiled child."

"It's a stupid assignment," Jim countered. "I know it. You know. Even Spock knows it."

"If it is or if it isn't, I still have to go," Marissa countered. "You know that."

"What about Abby?"

That comment finally made Marissa sit up and glare angrily. "That's not fair! Don't you bring Abby into this."

"Why the hell not?" Jim countered hotly. "This is going to affect her the most. She's going to miss her mom; two weeks is a long time for a toddler."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Marissa declared crossly, the unwelcome feeling of tears coming to her eyes.

"Then don't go," Jim insisted.

"It's my job! I don't stop you from doing yours, do I?"

"That's different," Jim countered, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

"Why? Because you're the great, wonderful captain and I'm just a lowly lieutenant?" Marissa bit back sarcastically.

"That's not what I meant."

"Fuck you, Jim," Marissa whispered hoarsely, angrily wiping at the few tears now falling down her cheeks despite her best efforts. "I'm just doing my job. This isn't easy for me, you know? I don't want to leave Abby. And for some reason, I have no idea why at the moment, I don't want to leave you either. A little support would've been nice, you know?" Lying back down, Marissa sighed heavily, one hand over her eyes. "I'm tired. Why don't you just get ready for bed?"

The room was silent. Jim didn't move to leave or go towards the bathroom to get ready for bed. Hesitantly he sat on the bed next to her. Reaching out he rested a hand tentatively on her shoulder.

"Mariss," he said quietly, all the anger gone from his voice. "I'm sorry."

"Okay," Marissa shrugged, her voice thick with tears.

"No, Mariss," Jim said again, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from her face so that she would actually look at him. "I am sorry," he repeated, emphasizing each word. "I'm being a selfish ass. Again. I'm sorry. I…" 

"Oh Jim," Marissa interrupted, launching herself into his arms and sobbing against his chest. "I don't want to go."

"I know." Jim held her tightly, pressing his nose into her hair and breathing deeply. "I don't want you to go. But you have to."

"I know," Marissa agreed sadly.

xXx

Marissa had only one full day to finish all her preparations for M'Qtobau. Being busy allowed her to push aside the deep ache in her chest at the thought of being away from Jim and Abby. That evening Jim made a point of being off early so they could spend their time together as a family. They shared a quiet dinner, played with Abby and put her to bed together, giving in to her requests for one more story and one more song. By the time she was asleep in her mother's arms, Marissa's face was streaked with silent tears. Jim took the child from her and put her in her crib, then led Marissa into their bedroom where he slowly removed their clothes and then took his time making love to her.

The morning was hectic and Marissa was brought to tears again after dropping Abby off at daycare. Jim assigned her a security detail under Lieutenant Roth, better known as Cupcake, which included three other security officers. He'd also made sure they had top notch gear and supplies. She was grateful for all the details he had seen too. And while she thought a four member security detail was a bit of an overkill, she wasn't about to protest.

They'd said their goodbyes the night before and again in the morning before Abby woke up. Neither felt like making a scene in front of her away team and Scotty and his transporter crew, but seeing Marissa standing on the transporter pad, red-eyed and nervous, Jim couldn't handle it.

"Fuck it," he muttered under his breath as he strode over to Marissa and pulled her into his arms for a deep, soul searching kiss.

"Be careful," he mumbled, placing small kisses on her cheeks. "I miss you already."

"I love you," Marissa whispered as he stepped away.

Jim nodded at her, before looking over at Lieutenant Roth. "Take care of my girl," he ordered.

"Of course, sir," Cupcake saluted.

With one last look at Marissa, Jim glanced over at Scotty. "Energize."

And then she was gone.

_Please Review_

_Author's note:_

_I've always had a problem with the stardates in the movie. It just didn't make sense to me that Jim was born on the fourth of January, when in TOS it was sometime in March – that's way too premature. And the whole Narada incident taking place in February? Not when the visual clues made it look like late spring and they seemed to graduate almost immediately after the event. How could he become a captain if he wasn't finished – or almost finished - with school? So I asked Royalpinkdogs about it. Let's face it, my degree is in history. I can figure out basic math, but there is no way I can figure out stardates like a science teacher._

_According to her calculations below, Jim's birthday is January 15__th__ – still premature, but I can deal, and the Battle of Vulcan, which takes place on Stardate 2258.42, is June 2__nd __by our calendar. Which makes a lot more sense to me. (For those of you playing along, that means Abby was conceived on 2258.43 or June 4__th__ – it's all in the rounding.)_

_I like to date my stories at least in my own timeline so things make sense as I'm writing and I know how much time is passing. To calculate the stardates I figure out what day of the year a date is – some calendars have this, or I just use a website. So today, April 11__th__ is the 101__st__ day of the year. Then I multiply that by .2738 to get 27.6538. The stardate for today is 2011.28. Ta Da!_

_Royalpinkdogs explains it much better:_

**Stardates in **_**STAR TREK 2009**_**, their relation to the Gregorian Calendar and other **_**Star Trek**_** series**

In _STAR TREK 2009, _Ambassador Spock's mindmeld with Jim states that he encounters Nero 129 years in the future, on Stardate 2387. It is implied that Jim is about 25 years old when the movie takes place, Stardate 2258.42, and he was born on 2233.04. Therefore, _STAR TREK 2009, _or Star Trek re-boot uses a ratio of one Stardate per Earth/Gregorian calendar year. (This comment is being written on April 1, 2011, or Stardate 2011.24)

Stardates are recorded with four numerals for the year then two decimal places, representing hundredths of the calendar year.

If one Earth year is 365.24 days long, 1/100 of a year is 3.65 Earth days long.( A good weekend in Vegas.) (Divide 365.24 by 100 = 3.65)

To determine the date however, divide 100 by 365.24, giving 0.2738%.

That is one 24-hour Earth day in Stardate equivalency.

Then multiply the day of the year from January 1 by 0.002738 to determine the Stardate. 

The given Stardate of 2258.42 in _STAR TREK__ 2009_, when James Kirk is around 25 years old, would take place about seven years before the earliest Stardate in _The Original Series_, 1277.1 in "WHERE NO MAN HAS GONE BEFORE," which would be around October 20, 2265.

Given Kirk's birth date of January 15, 2233, his exact age can now be calculated for any Stardate given in an episode of _The Original Series. _

Also, in _STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN_, Admiral Kirk is celebrating his birthday on Stardate 8130.3 when Dr. McCoy gives him a bottle of Romulan Ale (vintage 2283). Therefore, Stardate 8130.3 (in The Movie Series Stardate system) must take place on January 15 in some year after 2283.

_So there you have it. That's how I calculate my stardates. It mostly makes sense to me, but that is why I have Royalpinkdogs to keep me in line. I couldn't do this without her! - RA_


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's notes**: I've debated and debated about putting a warning on this chapter. Thanks to all the kind reviews, I know what you guys are thinking and what you are worried about and I can't blame you. But I don't like warnings. We don't get them in real books (not that I'm seriously comparing my fanfiction to a real book, but as a reader I like to have the story unfold with all its bumps and turns). I really don't want to spoil anything; I just hope you all stay with me until the end.

So, angst ahead – there's your warning.

**Complications**

**Chapter 6**

**Stardate 2260.66**

The crew on the bridge was midway through Alpha shift as they neared the home planet of Ambassador Trixie DuPree. Just about everyone aboard the _Enterprise_ was glad to see her go – she'd been a nuisance from the moment she'd stepped on board. If her cabin was finally warm enough, then her towels weren't the right color. If the special meals the chef had created for her weren't on time and served to her standards, then the sounds of the engines were keeping her awake.

Although she couched each and every little complaint in the sweetest of lilting tones, the sheer abundance of her reports of displeasure were enough to send Jim's usually imperturbable yeoman, Janice Rand, into fits of anger.

Stalking into the captain's ready room, Janice stood still once the door slid shut behind her and glared at Jim. "How much longer?"

"What?" Jim looked up at her, feigning confusion and trying not to smile. She was looking slightly more…harried… than usual and her normally impeccable hair was definitely coming out of its careful arrangement. "What are you talking about, Rand?"

"How long until we get Ms. Trixie DuPree to LaFontaine, sir?" she managed to say professionally enough, though if she slightly sneered the ambassador's name, no one could really blame her. It truly bordered on the ridiculous.

"So, you're still letting her get to you, huh?" Jim asked, doing his best not to smirk. "I'm surprised. After all these months dealing with me, I thought you would have been able to handle just about anything."

"Beg your pardon, Captain," Rand continued to glare at him. "But compared to Ms. DuPree, you are a cakewalk."

"I think I should be insulted," Jim muttered, covering his smile at Rand's obvious distress with his hand. "I think the only person who isn't counting the minutes is Mr. Spock, because he's counting the seconds."

"At least you don't care what color your sheets are or what temperature your tea is," Rand ranted, her hands waving wildly in the air. "With you I just have to worry about deadlines and getting you to sign off on things. She wants Aldarian chocolates in the middle of the Capellan system. And she's _allergic,_" she made actual finger quotes, much to Jim's amusement, "to anything that's replicated so everything must be fresh. And she has to have a PADD of the latest galactic news brought to her every morning, coded and correlated by person, planet and solar system. Heaven forbid she does it herself! And don't even get me started on her…"

"Rand!" Jim interrupted, trying to stop her before she got into full out ranting mode. He'd already had to listen to it twice and he really wasn't up for it right now. After all, while Rand had to deal with all the ambassador's complaints and wishes, Jim had to deal with her wandering hands and bedroom eyes whenever he saw her. All in all, from his perspective, he thought Rand was getting the better end of the deal. By now he was pretty sure that Ambassador DuPree thought he had some kind of hot and heavy relationship going with Spock, considering the amount of time Jim spent using the Vulcan as a human shield and an excuse to escape the woman's clutches – literally and figuratively.

"I'm sorry, Captain," Rand seemed to deflate in front of him. "How much longer may we look forward to being graced with Ambassador Trixie DuPree's lovely presence?" she asked in a simpering voice.

Reaching over on his desk, Jim toggled a switch. "Kirk to Chekov. What is our ETA at LaFontaine?"

"We are just prepareink to come out of warp now, Keptin," Chekov's voice came over the comm. "I was just about to call you."

"Very good, Mr. Chekov. On my way," Jim replied jubilantly as he stood up and came around his desk. "She'll be gone in less than an hour, Janice. Congratulations! You survived!"

The ready room door slid open and Jim went over to his chair, smirking as Rand gave a loud sigh of relief before striding over to her station. Although Sulu and Chekov did not need his direct intervention to drop out of warp or enter orbit around the Ambassador's home planet, Jim enjoyed watching the choreography of their actions. They were a well oiled team, his senior helmsman and navigator, and maybe, in the future, a happy couple if either of them ever got up the nerve to say anything, according to a secret Marissa had shared with him a few weeks ago.

"Keptin," Chekov called over his shoulder, "we are in orbit 100,000 meters above LaFontaine."

From this height most planets, even the harshest, most inhabitable planets, were strangely beautiful in some way, but not LaFontaine. From this vantage point LaFontaine only looked tacky. The pink clouds swirling over the sphere were only the first layer of riotous color on the planet known as 'Las Vegas' throughout the galaxy. The oceans were all a vivid turquoise and the landmasses varied from purple to gold. It should have looked pretty, but it just managed to look ostentatious, much like its people.

Although the natives of the planet tended to wear big hair and far too much make up and dress their soldiers in studded black leather with high collars and capes, their technological skills with microfilament lighting and electronic effects made them naturals for membership in the Federation. Yet it was the enormous amount of the neonite mineral that allowed the LaFontainians to live in sumptuous luxury and peace. No other planet had such a wealth of the gas-producing ore.

"Uhura, signal LaFontaine that the Ambassador has returned," Jim ordered. "Mr. Spock, I'll be in the transporter room bidding farewell to Ambassador DuPree and her party. You have the conn, but if I'm not back in fifteen minutes, come get me, all right?"

"Yes, Captain," Spock nodded. After almost two weeks, he was used to rescuing Jim from the Ambassador's clutches.

Just as Jim stood up, Uhura gave a loud gasp that drew everyone's attention. Normally the calmest and coolest member of the bridge crew, Uhura could handle incoming and outgoing messages in dozens of different languages at the same time as she was rerouting the wiring of the communications board. To have her show any reaction to a message she received was unique.

"Lieutenant, report," Jim said, changing his trajectory towards her station rather than the lift.

"Uh, one moment, sir," she glanced at him briefly. "I need to hear it again." She looked over at Spock and the fear in her eyes was obvious to anyone who could see her face. When she turned back towards Jim after listening to the message again, Jim was able to see a shimmering in her eyes.

"Uhura, what is it?" Jim asked, taking the final steps to her station. Spock joined him as they both watched Uhura trigger another sensor on the board. She looked up at Jim. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "The message is from M'Qtobau."

With one more click on her board, the bridge was filled with the static of an interstellar broadcast followed by words heavily accented in standard.

"_This is Chancellor Utabiwa, of the Council of Elders, Prividan City, M'Qtobau. We are in need of help. One of our cities, Malloribia, has been destroyed by an unknown device. The area of destruction exceeds a twenty kilometer radius from the town center. The epsilon radiation has been detected at 37 Tbq on the boundaries of the blast zone. There are no known survivors from the area. Repeat, the city of Malloribia on the planet M'Qtobau has been destroyed by unknown forces. Any vessels receiving this message are asked to assist us. Utabiwa out."_

Frozen, the bridge crew stared in horror at one another, but none of them were able to look at their captain, except for Spock. "Epsilon radiation of 37 TeraBecquerels is sufficient to neutralize any living creature within that area, let alone the physical destruction caused by the detonation," he stated calmly before Uhura had a chance to catch his eyes and nod to the captain's almost catatonic state.

Jim stood motionless and colorless, his eyes unfocused. He hadn't heard a word Spock had said. It was long seconds before a sound came from him. "Uhura, play it again," he ordered in a rasping whisper.

Almost against her will, Uhura played it again. Everyone knew that Marissa had planned to move from the Prividan City, the capital of M'Qtobau, to Malloribia the home city of Ambassador Loular Boyarsky, within a few days of her last transmission. It was impossible to imagine what Jim was feeling now as the same horrible message was heard again.

Jim swayed a bit and Spock grabbed his arm, holding him upright as he turned them towards the ready room, guiding Jim before him. "Yeoman, please see to the Ambassador's departure as quickly as possible. Give the captain's regrets," he spoke over his shoulder.

Rand nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes as she hurried to get rid of Ambassador DuPree.

"Lieutenant Uhura, please call Dr. McCoy to the bridge," he ordered before allowing the door to slide shut and giving Jim the privacy he needed.

Jim stood blindly just inside the room where Spock had led him. Once again taking his arm, Spock led him over to his chair at the conference table. Jim slumped into it, but still didn't say anything.

"Captain, may I get you some water?" Spock asked politely, still waiting for some response. He knew that Jim was an emotional creature and he certainly expected some kind of reaction upon hearing that Lieutenant O'Donnell was most probably dead, but this was not what he had expected. Jim's face was pale and his breathing was shallow, but he showed no signs of comprehending anything that they had just heard on the bridge.

"Captain…"

Jim started to shake his head. "She's not dead," he said softly, not looking up at Spock. "She's not. I'd know it. She's not," he repeated, brokenly. "She can't be."

Spock stood watching the captain, for once at a loss as to what to do. Just then, much to his relief, though he'd never admit it out loud, the door slid open and Dr. McCoy strode in looking as surly as ever.

"What in the blazes have you done now, Jim?" McCoy growled, but after two steps into the room he froze at the sight of Jim sitting and shaking his head, staring blankly at the table in front of him. "What's happened?" he demanded, looking over at Spock.

"We received a distress call from M'Qtobau, Doctor," Spock explained. "The city of Malloribia has been destroyed by an unknown device and the levels of epsilon radiation are quite high. According to the message there are no survivors in the area."

"Marissa?" McCoy asked, though by the way he was looking pityingly at Jim, he already knew the answer.

"Yes, Doctor. Lieutenant O'Donnell and the landing party were last known to be heading to Malloribia."

"Oh gods, Jim," McCoy said softly, sitting down in the chair next to his friend and taking in his glassy eyes and pale features. "Jim, look at me. Jim!"

Only with the doctor raising his voice did Jim finally acknowledge the presence of another being. Turning his face towards McCoy, the captain gave no sign of awareness or responsiveness in his eyes, the glassy stare frightening McCoy.

"Jim, talk to me," McCoy reached out a hand and placed it on Jim's shoulder. "Was Marissa in the city?" When he received no response, he tightened his grip and shook him. "Damn it, man! Wake up. Talk to me, Jim." With his free hand McCoy adjusted his tricorder to take a look at Jim's vitals.

Before he could bring the tricorder up, Jim shook off his hand and pulled away. "No," he shook his head, still staring at the table.

"I'm just going to do a scan, Jim," McCoy said soothingly. "I think you're in shock and you need…"

"No," Jim pulled away and looked up at McCoy, his eyes suddenly alert and fierce. "I…I'm fine. I'm not…" he shook his head. "Oh god, Marissa." He almost broke then, but McCoy watched the herculean effort he made to pull himself together. "She's not dead, Bones. She's not. I'd know." He reached out and painfully gripped McCoy's arm. "I'd know it."

"It's okay, Jim, it's okay," McCoy said calmly. Looking over at Spock, McCoy nodded. "I got this."

"I will be on the bridge should you need me," Spock quickly retreated.

Carefully removing Jim's hand from his arm, McCoy brought his tricorder up to scan. Everything looked okay, not great, but okay. His pulse was high, his adrenaline was spiking and his respiration was a bit shallow, but he wasn't going into shock. "Why don't you tell me what's going on, Jim. Can you do that?"

Jim nodded, eyes mostly focused on the table. "Uhura…there was a distress call. From M'Qtobau. The whole city is gone. Epsilon radiation. Something like 20 kilometers. Gone. Unknown device. Unknown attack. Gone."

"What city Jim?"

"Malloribia," he managed to whisper.

McCoy heaved a sigh. This wasn't good. "And, was Marissa…was she there, Jim?"

Jim's immediate reaction was to shake his head wildly. "No. No. She… I don't know." He paused and drew in deep breath. "She was going to go hiking. In the mountains. Like back home in Colorado. She might not…I'd know, wouldn't I? If she was… I'd know, right?" he looked beseechingly, his eyes begging for McCoy to reassure him.

"I…" McCoy sighed. "I don't know, Jim." He stood up and got a glass of water. "Look, drink this and I'm going to go see if the hobgoblin knows anything, okay?" Jim didn't move. "Okay, Jim?" McCoy repeated, physically putting the glass into Jim's hand. "Drink."

Nodding absently, Jim raised the glass to his lips and swallowed a few times.

"Good. Now finish that up and I'll be right back."

When McCoy exited the ready room, Spock was sitting at his science station. "Have you heard anything more?" he demanded without preamble.

"Lieutenant Uhura is monitoring all broadcasts from the M'Qtobauan system, but has been unable to achieve direct communication with anyone on the planet. I have been able to detect a change in the planetary albedo from this distance, which indicates an alteration in the planetary atmosphere, but no further information is available."

"And Marissa?"

Spock paused. "It is most likely, given her last known plans that Lieutenant O'Donnell perished in the explosion that destroyed Malloribia."

"You mean she's dead," McCoy said bitterly.

"That is what I said," Spock nodded. "We'll be ready to depart for M'Qtobau in no more than fifteen minutes. At warp seven we should reach the planet in nineteen hours. The time stamp on the recording we heard was from twenty-three point four five hours ago."

"Meaning it will be over forty hours since the explosion occurred by the time we get there," McCoy summed up bitterly. He knew that the first few hours were the most important if there were any survivors. As time went on the odds weren't good that there would be anyone they could help."

"That is correct, Doctor," Spock agreed.

McCoy seemed to want to say something more, but instead turned around and went back to Jim in his ready room. That was where he was needed most.

Though he was only gone for a few minutes, by the time he returned, Jim was pacing back and forth in front of his desk. "What did Spock say?" Jim asked as the door closed behind McCoy, looking a bit more like himself.

"We'll be there in about nineteen hours at warp seven," McCoy began.

"No, we can shave three or fours," Jim interrupted impatiently, "she can do warp eight or better. We need to get there now."

"Jim," McCoy stopped him from going onto the bridge. "The time stamp on the message was from almost twenty four hours ago. Three or four hours isn't going to make that big of a difference."

Jim froze. "What are you saying, Bones?"

"I'm saying," McCoy looked Jim directly in the eyes, "that if there were any survivors then the first few hours are the most critical. Yes, we should get there as fast as we can – without compromising the ship, but after this amount of time… there's not a lot we're going to be able to do."

"What about those on the outskirts? Those not in the initial detonation area?" Jim countered angrily. "What about them? Are we just supposed to pansy-ass our way back and hope they're all in good health?"

"The M'Qtobauans have the technology for a radiation barrier," McCoy replied calmly, not letting Jim's anger affect him. "I'm sure they've put one in place to protect their people. I'm just saying you don't have to risk the ship…"

"It's not a risk. She can do it." Moving away from McCoy, Jim went over to his desk. "Kirk to Spock."

"Spock here, Captain."

"I want us there as soon as possible, Mr. Spock. Warp factor eight."

"But Captain…"

"She can do it, Mr. Spock. See that it's done."

There was a long pause. "Yes, Captain."

Jim's bright eyes turned back to McCoy. "What else? Has Uhura heard anything else? Anything from Starfleet?"

McCoy shook his head. "I don't know about Starfleet, but Uhura hasn't been able to get through to the planet yet and she hasn't heard any other communications either. I'm sure she'll keep scanning, but once we're at warp…"

Jim sat down heavily in his chair behind his desk. "We could miss 'em if we don't know what we're listening for," he completed McCoy's comment.

Taking a seat in the chair in front of Jim's desk, McCoy waited for Jim to speak. There was nothing he could think to say; nothing that wasn't platitudes and false hope, so he waited. After a few minutes of silence Jim finally spoke, his voice low but firm.

"Bones, she sent me a private message piggybacked on the official one reporting on the away team's initial observations," he began slowly. "She said they were planning to go hiking in the mountains outside of Malloribia. She said it reminded her of Colorado and since her presence wasn't helping it was probably a good idea to get away from the city for a while. She…" he shook his head slowly. "You know her better than most," he stood up and went over to the comm. unit. "You listen to it. You tell me if what I think…" with some clicks and chirps the screen beside the desk came to life and Marissa's face appeared. McCoy leaned forward to listen.

"_Hey Sweetie," she smiled at them. "This is a complete waste of our time. Why Franks wanted me here is beyond me. Ambassador Boyarsky wasn't even expecting me, but he's been very accommodating. I know I said most of this in my official comm., but there is some serious political maneuvering going on here. There's some big money being thrown around, too. I ran into some old friends who tried to recruit me and you along with me for UNISTAR. They didn't seem too happy to see me, but oh well, what are you going to do?" She winked at the camera and Jim gave a hoarse grunt in response._

"_I honestly don't know what they're doing here and whose side they're on," she continued. "Obviously, they don't want the Federation involved if they're here, but it's not their usual type of planet." She shrugged, looking at the camera helplessly. "There is so much I don't know and so much they aren't telling me. Like I said, the ambassador's been really great, but I can tell my being here is just making things worse for him. The xenophobes here… they're pretty militant and are getting some serious funding from what the ambassador has hinted at and they don't like me at all._

"_Someone from the government inspected our equipment and confiscated our comms a couple days after we arrived,, but Roth was clever and managed to hide some of the components in a couple of tricorders. The guy didn't recognize the parts for what they were," she paused and smiled. "I know, I know, wanton destruction of Starfleet property. Gee, like that's never been done before. Guess I'll have to take whatever punishment my captain sees fit to dole out," she added playfully. "I can't have you blaming Roth, he's been great. You really should cut the guy a break and stop calling him Cupcake, though. He's been taking good care of us._

"_In the next couple days we're going to move to the Ambassador's home in Malloribia. It's apparently right in the middle of the city by a huge park. It's also not far from the mountains. It's nice that he's going out of his way to make us comfortable, but I also think he's trying to get us somewhere a bit…safer. Now don't freak out about that, okay?" she continued quickly. "We're fine, it's just Prividan City is a bit more xenophobic than I had expected. Malloribia, from what I've heard, is pretty pro Federation, just not too vocal about it. We're not allowed to walk the streets at night at all, and if we go out in the daytime it's always with an escort, so don't worry about us,_ _okay? We're fine. But I think to give us and the ambassador a break we're going to go for a little hike. It looks just like home, so once we get to Malloribia we're planning a trip into the mountains. It's so strange to be on this planet so far from Earth and to think of Colorado, but I do. The mountains here look exactly like the Rockies. One of the M'Qtobauans has some camping equipment, so we might make a couple days of it. Just to lay low and enjoy the planet a little."_

_She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts as she stared at the screen. "I miss you Jim," she finally said. "I know neither of us wanted me to do this and we both figured it was a waste of time – and it is – but I didn't expect to miss you this much." She paused and then smiled up at the camera impishly. "This wasn't how I was planning to tell you, but I thought you should know, it seems I've picked up a little…bug. I've had it before, but if I had known it would show up now I might have protested the assignment a bit more, but then again, maybe not," she shrugged sheepishly on the screen. "This is my job and the planet is perfectly safe. Even Len would agree. I'm just more tired than usual and need to nap most afternoons. Maybe this hiking trip we hope to take will give me some more energy. I'll be home soon._

"_Take care, sweetie. Give a big hug to Abby for me. And I really hope the ambassador didn't purr in your ear for too long – I know how you hate that," she chuckled. "I miss you." She mimed a kiss at the computer and the screen went blank._

McCoy had split his time watching the message and studying Jim's face, seeing the despair transform to fondness and then change again into hardened resolve. When it ended he sat stunned by the implications of Marissa's 'coded' message.

"So that's why you've been so happy, even with her gone," McCoy finally said, looking over at Jim who was still staring at the blank screen. "She's pregnant. Dear gods, I hope she got off on that hike – when did you get this message?"

"It came with her original report four days ago," Jim told him calmly. "If she was able to go, then they weren't in the city."

"That's cutting it a bit close, isn't it?" McCoy commented. "If she was still in the capital when she sent it and she…"

"Bones, she wasn't there when it happened," Jim cut him off harshly. "I have to… I have to believe that. We have to go search for them. They're probably waiting for us to pick them up; waiting somewhere in those mountains. Roth will take care of them until we can get there, but we need to get there."

McCoy thought about arguing. Jim was basing his beliefs on a pretty thin chain of evidence; if they got out of the capital on time, if they got permission to go into the mountains, if the weather stayed nice, if Marissa wasn't too tired. There were a lot of 'ifs' and not a lot of room for error. He thought the odds were a bit too steep, but if that's what got Jim through the next couple days, then so be it. He wasn't ready to ruin his friend's life.

Jim reached for his comm. "Mr. Spock, Sulu, Chekov, will you come to my ready room, please," Jim barked into it.

The three men joined Jim and McCoy in the ready room within a minute. Completely restored and ready to fight, Jim began planning their tactics; how they would use transporters and sensors, how many away teams should be prepared, and what types of medical aid that should be set aside.

"Captain," Spock finally spoke up once Jim ran out of steam. "The government of M'Qtobau will not allow the use of transporters. Nor were our landing party permitted to have ID chips, and if, as you say, their communicators have been confiscated, we have no means to determine the location of our people, if indeed they are somewhere outside of Malloribia," he pointed out logically.

Jim wasn't looking for logic. "Well, I'm not that concerned about offending them with the use of our transporters at this point, Mr. Spock," Jim bit out caustically. "They need us right now. They've asked for help and we're going to give it to them. They can bitch about our methods later. We have a landing party there, an _invited_ landing party, and we are allowed to recover our own people at the same time that we are offering aid and assistance in the wake of this disaster – a need that they broadcasted across subspace for any and all ships. As far as the lack of ID chips goes, figure something out. We know the landing party's general location. They have tricorders and the parts to make up a comm. They could be broadcasting to us right now for all we know. Chekov, you and Sulu coordinate our search efforts once we arrive there."

"Aye, Captain," Chekov responded immediately. Jim couldn't look at him directly. The young navigator had become close friends with Marissa and Jim could recognize the pain in the young Russian's eyes.

"How long will it be, Sulu?" he turned, focusing attention onto the helmsman rather than his red-eyed navigator.

"Fourteen and a half hours at our current warp, captain," Sulu answered back promptly.

"Can we go any faster?" Jim questioned.

"Negative, sir," Sulu replied, shaking his head and glancing over at Spock. He obviously did not want to be the one giving the captain bad news.

"We are approaching the ship's limitations as it is, Captain," Spock chimed it. "An increase in speed is not possible at this time as we are too close to Nebula Gum 31, which is ionized by NGC 3324, and prevents greater velocities in this region."

"Okay, okay," Jim waved his hand in dismissal, "no need for stellar cartography lessons. So we'll be there in fourteen hours, right? Organize a plan for us to search for our people. We're not taking 'no' for an answer."

"Captain, we will be violating Starfleet directives if we beam onto a planet that has previously disallowed such activity," Spock protested.

"Spock, they asked for help," Jim said, his voice patient, but brittle. "We'll be there helping. You can argue legalities until the tribbles come home, but we have to get down there. We'll be taking down aid and supplies and medical workers, right Bones? And we'll be able to scan for our people. Will we need radiation suits?"

"That is unknown at this time, sir," Spock replied.

"How different are the M'Qtobauan people from the away team in terms of scanner readings," McCoy chimed in. "Can we pick up our folks that way?"

"Good thinking, Bones," Jim nodded enthusiastically. "Spock?"

"Unlikely, Captain. The report from the xenohistory department is that the natives of the planet are genetically similar to terrestrial humans, excepting that they are heavier in bone structure and shorter in stature, and also that the males bear the young after a short period of gest…" Spock stopped talking as he noticed an odd expression pass across Jim's face.

Not even bothering to look at the other men in the room, Jim stood up and walked to the door. "Spock, you have the conn. I'll be in daycare for… for a bit," his voice was hoarse as he excited the room.

When Jim arrived at the daycare center he was met by eight children marching in a column around the room. Lieutenant Daugherty, the daycare and nursery coordinator was leading them in a marching song known only to small children, and beating on a little drum to provide rhythm. She looked up in surprise and then smiled.

"Captain! So good to see you. Care to join our parade?" Jim shook his head even as Abby spied him and broke ranks to run into his arms. He scooped her up and held to his chest tightly, burying his face in her curls. He stood there for a long moment, fighting back tears before he was able to look over at Lieutenant Daugherty.

"Is everything okay, Captain?" she asked softly, obviously seeing the distress on his face.

Jim opened his mouth but nothing would come out. What could he say? Abby's mother was dead? He wouldn't believe. He couldn't. Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

"I'll bring Abby back in a bit, okay?" he said hoarsely, and before the lieutenant could respond he walked out the door Abby still clutched tightly to him.

_Please review_

_Also, many, many thanks to my beta reader (who is really my coauthor for this chapter) Royalpinkdogs. Seriously folks, some of the coming chapters are all hers – I've just fiddled with them. I don't know how I'd get this story written without her._


	7. Chapter 7

**Complications**

**Chapter 7**

**Stardate 2260.66**

After holding a slightly confused Abby for fifteen minutes, Jim finally returned her to the daycare center. Always a perceptive child, she had picked up on his mood and tolerated his clinginess to the best of her ability, patting his face and murmuring, "Dada sad," over and over again, which only made Jim want to weep. If his eyes were red and irritated looking when he handed her over to Lieutenant Daugherty, the lieutenant had the good form not to mention it. She'd learn everything through the ship's grapevine soon enough.

Back on the bridge, Jim did his best to ignore the sympathetic gazes that his crew shot him when they thought he couldn't see them. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate their thoughts; he just couldn't handle what they were thinking. He would not let himself believe that Marissa was gone. He couldn't. And seeing that his crew believed it enough to offer him sympathy would break him if he acknowledged it.

After a good hour of listening to her sniffle at her station, Jim had dismissed Rand from her post. Again, it was nothing personal. He just couldn't listen to her grief when he was holding his own at bay.

Thank god for Spock, Sulu and Chekov. Once at warp, they immediately began attacking the logistics of how things would happen once they arrived at M'Qtobau. They were thorough and no nonsense and not once did they make it sound like any of this was a wasted effort because the away team was probably already dead in the initial explosion.

He listened and made suggestions, but for the most part just let them do their jobs, while he mentally worded and reworded a strongly written communiqué to the Admiralty about the wasteful use of Starfleet personnel and how the captain should have the right of final say on any and all away team missions. He was just working up to how Dekker and Franks should get off his ass and leave him to run his own ship when McCoy stepped onto the bridge.

"Medical teams are prepped and ready, Jim," McCoy announced as he stood beside Jim's chair. "We should have plenty of supplies. And radiation suits if necessary."

"Good," Jim nodded, absently. "That's good, Bones."

"Anymore news?" the doctor asked, glancing over towards the communication station.

Jim swung his chair around. "Not since the first pick up. Uhura?"

Shaking her head, her pony tail barely moving at all, Uhura looked over sadly. "Nothing sir. I can't even pick up the initial transmission any more. It's possible they shut it off, but that seems unlikely."

"Noted," Jim replied, swinging back forward. "Sulu, how long?"

The helmsman glanced down at his consol briefly. "Ten hours, Captain. We should arrive at roughly 0500 ship's time, which translates to early afternoon local."

"All right, lets get these plans solidified," Jim began, "any technical stuff we can pass on to the night crew, but I want all of you here by 0400. I know it's a short night, but I want my top team ready to go."

"Of course, Captain," Sulu answered immediately.

"Yes, Keptin," Chekov replied with a blush.

"Captain," Spock finally spoke. "We will be ready to assist M'Qtobau and find the away team as soon as we come out of warp. Might I suggest as Alpha shift has ended, that you…rest until then."

"I'm fine Spock," Jim countered. "I'll stay until…"

"Jim, come on," McCoy interrupted. "It's dinner time."

"Bones, I just want to…"

"Abby will be hungry," McCoy continued. "And Rand is in no frame of mind take care of her."

"Shit," Jim murmured under his breath, he'd forgotten about dismissing Rand from duty. She normally took care of Abby if he or Marissa weren't available. The last thing Abby needed was a weepy clingy Janice to contend with. His own behavior earlier had probably confused her enough already. "What about Chapel, can she…"

McCoy was already shaking his head. "She'll watch Abby in the morning, so you can be here. Between her and Rand and Roose, and maybe some of the girls from cartography, we've got Abby taken care of for the next couple days. You just need to make sure you see her from time to time."

Looking up at his friend, Jim felt a surge of gratitude. "Thanks Bones," he said softly.

"We all want to get Abby's mama back, Jim," McCoy told him brusquely as he levered him out of the chair, "and we know that it's going to take some time and that you'll need to be focused. We'll take care of Abby when you're busy. But until then, you need to spend some time with her and you need to rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

Jim stood and looked around the bridge hesitantly. He felt torn. He was captain. He needed to be here on the bridge helping with the rescue plans. Yet he was also a father and he desperately felt the need to hold his daughter in his arms and reassure himself that she was happy and healthy.

"Spock?" Jim looked over to his first officer.

"I will see that we are prepared and that everyone has ample opportunity to rest, Captain," he replied.

For a moment, as he looked around the bridge at the faces of his crew, Jim didn't know what to say. They were just doing their jobs, but they were also doing it for him, because Marissa was special to him. "Thank you," he finally said softly, nodding. "I…I appreciate all your hard work." He glanced around at everyone. "Thanks."

"Come on, Jim," McCoy began to tow him off the bridge. "We don't want to deal with a cranky, hungry toddler, do we?"

xXx

It wasn't one of Abby's better nights. She had obviously picked up on the off mood of her father and nothing seemed to make her happy. She barely ate any dinner, but insisted on dessert, which Jim finally gave to her because he just didn't have the will to tell her no and deal with the repercussions. She was clingy and whiney and didn't want to take a bath or get into her pajamas or read a book. The only thing she wanted to do was watch mama.

Before she had left, Marissa had found the time to record herself reading several of Abby's favorite stories and singing a couple songs. She'd even recorded one for Jim, where she softly talked him to sleep, helping him to relax and unwind as she described how she would run her fingers over his scalp and massage his hands and arms. Just her voice and her words soothing and relaxing him as she told him how much she missed him and how she wished that she was there, curled up next to him, her head over his heart, listening to the steady beating as she fell asleep safe and protected. He'd only listened to it once, the ache of missing her still fresh from that morning. He didn't think he could listen to it now. Or maybe ever again.

But Abby loved her recordings, so Jim let her pick out the one she wanted and he watched it with her. Seeing Marissa's face and hearing her voice almost broke him, but he managed to stare stonily at the wall, his eyes hard and glassy until Abby finally relaxed in his arms and he could turn the vid off.

He could feel Bones' eyes on him occasionally, but he refused to look over at him, knowing he would see the man's sympathy and pity for what everyone thought they'd lost and he just couldn't bear it. So when the vid was off, he stood up and carried Abby to her room without a word. He hadn't realized how much time had passed until Bones was standing next to him, urging him to put Abby down.

"Put her down, Jim," Bones said softly, moving to take the sleeping child from his arms. "She'll sleep better in her own bed."

Twisting away, Jim held her tightly to his chest. "I… I don't want to."

McCoy sighed. "I know Jim. But she will sleep better in her crib. You know that. And you need some rest too."

"I'm not tired," he protested automatically.

"Put Abby down, Jim," McCoy repeated gently. "She needs her sleep, even if you think you don't."

He only hesitated for a moment, before laying her gently onto her side and drawing up her blanket. Placing a soft kiss to her head, he tucked Sehlat under her tiny arm. "Good night, Abby- girl. Sweet dreams," he breathed out. "I love you."

"Come on, Jim," McCoy tugged at his arm and led him into the adjoining bedroom. "Time for you to get ready for bed."

"I'm not a child, Bones," Jim snapped, pulling his arm from his friend's grasp. "I can take care of myself and I said I wasn't tired."

"Any other night and I'd argue the child comment," McCoy declared, crossing his arms and looking at Jim, "but not tonight. Tonight I don't expect you to know which way is up."

"We have artificial gravity, Bones," Jim told him. "Up is that way." He pointed to the ceiling.

"Ha fucking ha, kid," McCoy snapped. "Anyone getting news like you did today…"

"She's not dead, Bones," Jim barked, a fire suddenly in his eyes. "She's not."

"I never said she was," McCoy stated calmly. "What I was going to say is that kind of news takes a toll on a person and you have a lot to do tomorrow. You're going to need to be firing on all thrusters and you can't do that if you stay up all night watching Abby sleep or sit in your office planning strategy. That's what you got the hobgoblin for, and the baby genius and Sulu. They'll take care of the details. You just need to be awake and alert tomorrow morning and ready to kick ass as Captain James T. Kirk."

"You do make a convincing argument," Jim offered, his lips twitching slightly. "Nice appeal to my ego, by the way."

"I knew it was the way to go," McCoy agreed sagely.

"Look," Jim sighed, "I'll take a short nap and then look…"

McCoy was shaking his head. "Nothing doing. I want you out for six hours – at least."

"No way," Jim protested, taking a big step away from McCoy. "That's too long. I need to…"

"You don't need to do a damn thing, Jim," McCoy barked. "Spock's got it covered. Now get your ass ready for bed, would you? I have my own sleep to think about, you know."

Jim glanced at the bed and then over at McCoy. "Four hours."

"Six. And that's nonnegotiable. Look, if you want to sleep on the couch…"

"Why would I want to do that?" Jim asked, his head snapping around to stare at McCoy. "This is our bed. I've been sleeping here every night since she… since she went away. Why should now be any different?" he asked defensively.

"It's not, Jim," McCoy replied; holding up his hands again. "I'm sorry I said anything. Just get ready for bed so that I can go to my own, okay?"

"Fine," Jim declared sullenly, marching off into the bathroom and banging cupboards and running water. Truth be told, McCoy was a bit worried at how easily he'd given in, but he wasn't going to bring it up.

Once Jim was in bed, with the alarm set for 0300, McCoy placed the hypospray against his neck.

"Don't go soft on me now, Bones," Jim said, his voice low and gravelly as he looked up at the doctor with suspiciously red rimmed eyes.

"Not likely," McCoy smirked, as he stabbed it in with a bit more force than necessary. "Good night," he whispered as Jim's eyes drifted closed and his breathing smoothed into the rhythm of sleep. Standing up, he couldn't fail to notice how Jim had placed himself on the far side of the bed, leaving plenty of room for another person. "I sure hope you're right, Kid," McCoy said softly, knowing Jim wouldn't hear him. "I sure hope you're right."

Checking on Abby once again, McCoy shut down the lights in Jim's quarters and made his way to his own. He offered up any and all prayers that Marissa was somewhere safe on M'Qtobau. If she wasn't… well, if she wasn't he wasn't sure how Jim was going to survive.

_Please review_

_Author's note – I just had to share since I've talked my husband's ear off and I won't be at work until 5pm tomorrow to share with my friends and coworkers, but me and my daughter (my daughter and I? lol) just got back from seeing American Idiot on Broadway in NYC! It was amazing! We saw the third to last show of the run and Billie Joe Armstrong was St. Jimmy and…and…and…WOW! We were only there for about 30 hours, but we managed to see Times Square and take a bike tour of Central Park. I want to go back!_

_My husband gets father and husband of the year for this! (My daughter has him wrapped around her finger, that's for sure.) I can't decide if this beats the time he sent me to visit my friend in New Jersey to see the premier of Star Wars Episode I for Mother's Day – we were living in France at the time. I love this man! I think I'll keep him._


	8. Chapter 8

**Complications**

**Chapter 7**

**Stardate 2260.66**

Jim sat impatiently in his chair waiting for the second they dropped out of warp and M'Qtobau was finally in front of him and he could actually do something. The sedative that Bones had given him had forced him to rest, but the moment his alarm had gone off his mind had begun racing. He and the rest of the command team had been on the bridge for over an hour now, though he suspected Spock had been there most of the night overseeing things, and he was still working through all the possible scenarios in his head. He just wanted to act, not sit here and wait.

"Sixty seconds," Sulu called out from his seat.

Jim took a deep breath. Soon. Soon. He repeated over and over again. I'm coming Marissa.

"Mr. Spock?" Jim looked back over his shoulder.

"All departments are ready, Captain."

"Uhura?"

"Ready to hail as soon as we're out of warp, sir," she replied briskly, one hand still scanning through channels as she looked up at him briefly. "Still no transmissions from the planet, but there's lots of planetary surface chatter. We'll be able to pick up more of it once we're there."

"Good, keep me informed," Jim told her.

"Thirty seconds," Sulu intoned, and Jim felt his stomach clench.

I'm coming, his mind silently spoke. I'm coming, Marissa. Just hold on.

No one knew what to expect. The planet could be swarming with rescue and recovery ships, or maybe just one or two. M'Qtobau was pretty far out of the way from most galactic shipping lanes and since it wasn't a member of the Federation it was left alone.

"Three, two…one." And the _Enterprise_ was out of warp. M'Qtobau was before them in all its turquoise, watery glory, looking like a particularly beautiful marble, with only the blemish of a small weather system in its northern hemisphere. Not another ship in sight.

"Hailing Prividan City now, Captain," Uhura called out.

A second later the face of a mid level bureaucrat filled the _Enterprises'_ view screen.

"Prividan City, this Captain James T. Kirk, of the USS _Enterprise_," Jim spoke. "We're here in response to your distress call regarding the attack on Malloribia."

"Yes, Captain," the man nodded officiously. "I do apologize if your ship has been discommoded, but there is no emergency. We are not in need of assistance at this time. We do appreciate your response, but…"

"Are you saying there was no detonation in the city of Malloribia?" Jim interrupted.

"There was, but Chancellor Utabiwa was mistaken as to…

"Because our sensors are showing a huge spike in epsilon radiation," Jim interrupted again.

"There was an explosion," the man said again, beginning to look a bit flustered. "But…"

"Our scanners show that the city is totally leveled for almost a twenty kilometer radius," Jim continued mercilessly, glancing down at the PADD in his hand as Chekov fed him data on the planet as quickly as he received it. "That doesn't seem to me that Chancellor Utabiwa was mistaken."

The official took a deep breath and did his best to look in control of the conversation. "We are handling the situation, Captain," he said pompously. "We are not in need of your assistance. Thank you. You may leave and continue on your own business. We are fine."

"No," Jim told him, his heart was racing, but he remained outwardly calm.

"No?" the official looked at him incredulously. "I assure you, sir that we can take care of ourselves. We do not need interference from you or your Federation."

"I don't doubt that your government is fully capable of taking care of your people or this situation," Jim stated and the other man seemed to deflate somewhat. "But I am not leaving. We have a team of people down there and I'm not leaving until they're back on board."

The man looked confused. "A team? I…"

"They were visiting at Ambassador Loular Boyarsky's request," Jim explained.

"Oh," the man paused, looking as if something had just occurred to him. "Captain, Ambassador Boyarsky – and anyone with him – is dead. His home was the target of the attack, everything radiates from there. If that Federation woman was a member of your crew I'm sorry for your loss," he said, though it was obvious from the tone that he didn't mean it at all, "but she and the majority of Malloribia are dead. Prividan City out."

And with that, the screen went blank and was once again filled with the view of M'Qtobau from orbit.

"What the hell? _That_ woman?" Jim muttered under his breath, doing his best to breath evenly as his stomach dropped. She is not dead, she is not dead, he repeated to himself.

"Spock?"

"Everything is as we expected, Captain," Spock said calmly from his station. "The Epsilon radiation is high, but it is no longer spreading. From my calculations, the dead zone is roughly eighteen point four seven kilometers from the detonation point. For the next two point three kilometers I suggest a seventy percent death rate with the percentages decreasing by seven point two percent for every kilometer after that."

"In English, please, Spock," Jim asked, his face pale and doing his best to hide his shaking hands by clutching the arms of his chair.

Spock nodded. "The survival rate within the detonation zone is less than two percent, and those that did survive are unlikely to live for long due to radiation poisoning."

"Jesus," Jim whispered.

"I calculate that anyone over thirty kilometers from the detonation point has a seventy percent chance of survival, though radiation sickness will vary due to terrain and wind patterns."

"Jim," McCoy strode onto the bridge looking pissed off. "What's the hold up?"

Jim continued to stare out the view screen, his mind trying to comprehend what Spock was – and wasn't – telling him.

"The M'Qtobauans have denied our offer of aid, Doctor," Spock replied for him.

"They what?" McCoy growled. "Are they stupid or something?"

"Not that I am aware," Spock replied causing McCoy to glare at him. "It is their decision as to whether we can give them aid. We can not force them to accept…"

"That's a bunch of horseshit," McCoy argued. "They need help. We can…"

"Bones," Jim interrupted, raising his voice before McCoy could get a good head of steam going. "Are they capable of taking care of something like this on their own?"

"Jim…"

"Are they?" he demanded.

McCoy let out a breath. "Yes, they can, but that doesn't mean we can't help. There are people dying down there and…"

"I know that, Bones," Jim snapped. "And I'm not giving up, but we can't force them to accept either." Turning a bit, Jim looked over at Uhura. "Get me someone down there. Someone official – the viceroy or something. Someone who can make a decision and not just spout party line crap."

"Yes sir," Uhura responded promptly.

"Chekov, how goes the scans," Jim asked, his heart once again beating fiercely. He wanted to help the M'Qtobauans, but he also wanted to find his team. Every second they were in orbit was time they could be searching and scanning.

"Negatif, Keptin," the young navigator responded. "I'm sorry."

"Keep scanning," Jim told him.

"Aye, Keptin!" Chekov returned to his screen.

"Hannity?" he swung his chair around.

"Yes, captain?" she sat up straighter and looked over at him.

"What the hell is going on down there? What's being said? Who did this?"

"Well, Captain," she began, not looking at him, but down at her screen. "A small group of anti-Federation… uh… terrorists. There's a lot of press about the Federation interfering and about… about…"

"Spit it out Lieutenant," Jim demanded, seeing her hesitation and knowing she didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"They're saying, sir, that Lieutenant O'Donnell is a prime example of why they shouldn't enter the Federation – arrogant, entitled and overconfident. They're saying that she said that they're lucky the Federation took notice of their small planet and was willing to help them, otherwise they'd never have the chance to evolve into a… proper… planet worthy of becoming a member of the Federation some day."

There were gasps from around the bridge at her words.

"The hell you say," Bones snarled.

"What the hell," Jim barked as he leapt out of his chair and stomped over to Hannity's station.

"It's what's being said in the press, sir," Hannity said. "I would never… I don't believe it at all, but that's what they're saying."

"I know, Hannity, I know," Jim said somewhat calmly. "I don't believe it either." He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Show me."

With a few touches on her screen, she brought up the information she had found, standing quickly, she let Jim have her seat. The whole bridge crew watched as he read and scanned, his face becoming redder and his scowl fiercer.

"Captain," Uhura's voice interrupted his reading. "I have Prime Minister Onniekerk."

"Put him on screen," Jim said in an overly controlled voice. Standing he moved over to his chair, but didn't sit down.

A middle-aged M'Qtobauan appeared on the screen, the wrinkles around the eyes a bit deeper than man he had spoken to before.

"Prime Minister Onniekerk," Jim nodded, "this is Captain James T. Kirk of the USS _Enterprise_."

"Captain," the man nodded regally. "How may I be of assistance?"

"I think that is the question I should be asking you," Jim stated. "We're here in response to the distress signal one of your chancellors sent out. I have a fully staffed and supplied medical team waiting to beam down to help with the situation around Malloribia."

"We thank you for that, Captain, but the situation is under control," Onniekerk replied. "I'm afraid Chancellor Utabiwa was a bit…panicked. We are fully capable of taking care of our own people."

"I understand that," Jim replied. "But I am still offering to render aid. Our team can be there in a matter of minutes and do whatever needs to be done. My chief medical officer will report directly to whoever is in charge if you like."

The prime minister pursed his lips. "Thank you, Captain, for the kind offer, but our answer is still no."

"At least let us…"

"Captain, we are a sovereign planet," Onneikerk bit out angrily. "We do not fall under yours or the Federation's jurisdiction or protection. We do not need your assistance, though we thank you for it."

"Fine, I can't make you accept aid that is freely offered," Jim acknowledge, "so I'll just pick up my crew members…"

"Your crew members?" the prime minister looked at him incredulously. "Captain, I believe my aide explained to you that the center of the detonation in Malloribia was the home of Ambassador Boyarsky. Your team – as well as Ambassador Boyarksy – is dead."

"How do you know?"

"I had a communication from the Ambassador last night, telling me that he had arrived safely at his home and was looking forward to a few days of relaxation," the prime minister said. "The detonation occurred before sunrise the next morning. They are dead. We've lost over 10,000 people in this horrible attack and while we thank you for your offer of aid, we do not need the Federation meddling in our affairs any longer."

"This wasn't the Federation's fault," Jim countered. "It was unfortunate and…"

"Excuse me, Captain," the Prime Minister interrupted with a sneer, "but I think we know who is at blame here."

"And just who is that?" Jim asked, folding his arms across his chest and staring at the screen belligerently.

"Had your Federation kept away from our planet and let us make our own decisions, things might have gone differently. But you had to send someone like your Lieutenant O'Donnell to stir things up and incite the fringe elements."

"It wasn't the Federation who bombed your city, Prime Minister, and there is no way that I would ever believe that Lieutenant O'Donnell would incite anyone."

"I don't know how well you know your crewmembers, Captain," he said snidely, "but some of the things that she said about our planet were not only out of place for any diplomatic representative, but rude and insulting. I have no problem laying the blame for this horrific attack at her feet. Had she remained quiet; had she not forced her way onto our planet, the city of Malloribia would still be standing today. All societies have members they are not proud of, and while joining the Federation was a highly contested debate, her presence and her attitude were what incited the terrorists to act. Right now, no one wants anything to do with the Federation, Captain Kirk, not even your aid. Now if you would please leave orbit. I do not need to deal with even more anti-Federation unrest."

"I don't believe they're dead," Jim stated firmly.

"Well, I can't change your mind," the prime minister replied. "But if they aren't dead, wouldn't you have heard from them by now? You've been in orbit for over thirty standard minutes."

"Your people confiscated their communications gear," Jim snarled.

"Be that as it may," the prime minister shrugged. "They are dead. Believe me, were they alive and I knew it, I would gladly have you take them off my planet."

"I'm not leaving until I know for sure," Jim countered.

"Obviously, I cannot force you to leave, but know this, Captain Kirk, if I find out that you have… transported any personnel onto my planet I will consider it a hostile act and those persons will be treated accordingly. I am asking you to leave. I will contact the Federation president, if I have to, but I want you gone."

Jim smiled, his eyes dark and threatening. "I'll await my orders, but I'm not leaving until I know what happened to my crewmembers."

"As you wish," the prime minister nodded brusquely. And then the screen went blank again.

The bridge was silent as everyone waited for Jim to explode. He sat heavily in his chair, still staring at the screen.

"Spock?" he finally spoke.

"Captain," Spock moved over to stand by the command chair. "At this juncture we are at an impasse. According to Federation law we cannot transport personnel to a planet that has specifically forbid it. It would be considered at the least an uncalled for act of aggression, at worst an act of war."

"That's asinine," McCoy mumbled. "We just want to help. And we want our people back."

Spock glanced over at the doctor, but did not respond to his words directly. "As we do have people on M'Qtobau, we are within our rights to remain in orbit until they are found or we are ordered to leave by a superior officer as long as our presence does not cause further harm or unrest."

"How long?" Jim asked.

"I estimate that we shall be contacted by Starfleet in less than twelve standard hours and ordered to leave the M'Qtobauan system," Spock replied.

Jim leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands scrubbing at his face. "Okay," he sat up suddenly, an air of determination radiating from him. "We have twelve hours or less. We have to find them. Chekov, continue scanning. I want as many free bodies as possible looking over the data, checking for anomalies. We know human signatures are pretty damn close to M'Qtobauan, so we don't want to miss anything. Focus on the mountains to the west and south. Divide into teams if you have to."

"Uhura, I want communications scanning and recording everything they come across," Jim told her, spinning his chair to face her. "This takes priority. We think they have the parts to build a full communicator, it might not have the power to broadcast far – check with security and the science department, and make sure to scan the most likely frequencies. I want everything recorded, but focus on what is most likely first, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Uhura replied, her hands already moving all over her board. As soon as he turned away she began contacting the communication department in the bowels of the ship.

"Hannity," Jim turned the other way. "I want you and your team to download any and all information regarding Lieutenant O'Donnell, Ambassador Boyarsky and his movements, the away team, the Federation, and what the hell happened down there. Go back a week or more before they arrived – I'll leave it to your discretion. Get Roose and her team to help correlate everything."

"Yes, sir," Hannity nodded.

"I want preliminary reports in two hours," Jim told everyone. Standing he looked around he felt a surge of pride as he watched his crew get to work. Nothing but the best for the _Enterprise_, he thought with a ghost of a smile. "Mr. Spock, I'll be in my ready room."

"Yes, Captain."

Walking with even strides and his spine straight, Jim strode calmly across the bridge. The door slid open and he went inside. It was only when the door slid closed behind him that he allowed himself to let out the huge sigh he had been holding back. Now that no one could see him he, his face crumpled and all the confidence he had been showing on the bridge faded into a look of despair. What if they were too late?

Moving on autopilot, he made his way over to his desk and sat down, resting his face in his hands and reminding himself to breath, trying not to let go of the tight reign he had on his emotions.

It probably wasn't even two minutes before the door opened and McCoy walked in. Not saying anything, the doctor sat down across from Jim and waited. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Jim managed to look up at McCoy, his eyes bleak.

"What if we're too late?" he asked hoarsely. "What if she… what if they're all… What if we're too late, Bones?"

McCoy sighed heavily. "I don't know, Jim," he finally said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "If we are… if they are…gone, then I guess we keep going. Keep living. We don't have a choice. We've lost crewmembers before."

"I know," Jim replied, sitting back and staring absently over McCoy's shoulder. "But this is…I…" he shook his head, unable to articulate what such a loss would mean to him. "What do you think?" he asked sharply, his eyes now alert and boring into his friend. "Honestly, what do you think? Are they dead?" 

"I…" McCoy began to speak, but then stopped. "I don't know Jim," he shook his head sadly, looking down at his hands as if they somehow had all the answers. "Given what we know; what we've seen of the planet and the situation… it's… It's not likely that they're alive."

"I won't believe that," Jim snarled. "I can't."

"I don't expect you to," McCoy told him honestly. "But you asked me what I think and… I won't lie to you Jim. The odds aren't good. Even if Chekov and his team can find a humanoid life sign down there, given the odds…" he shook his head.

Jim shook his head slowly, his eyes haunted. "I can't… I won't…."

"I know, Jim," McCoy told him softly. "And I'm not giving up hope. I don't want to be right, but…"

"Stop," Jim said, almost pleading. "Just… I can't…"

"All right," McCoy agreed. "We'll just see what your team of wunderkinds can come up with."

"Yeah, we'll see," Jim agreed absently, once again staring into space. He wanted to do something, he truly did, but he didn't know what. Chekov had the search well in hand with the help of Sulu; Uhura and Hannity and their teams were hard at work; Spock was overseeing everything else. His presence would only serve as an annoyance and interfere with their work, reminding them constantly how important this was to him. They didn't need him breathing down their necks to do their jobs.

It took eleven hours and forty-seven minutes, but eventually the _Enterprise_ was ordered away from M'Qtobau. It took another two hours of Jim arguing before they finally left. They found nothing. There were a surprisingly large number humanoid life signs, but nowhere near where the away team was last known to be; no broadcasts from Federation issued comms; nothing. All the evidence Hannity and Roose were able to find pointed to the fact that Marissa and the Ambassador and the away team had arrived at his home in Malloribia late in the evening. The Ambassador had contacted the prime minister and then six and a half standard hours later the area was bombed by xenophobic militants. There was no evidence to suggest that any of them had survived.

Marissa was truly gone.

_Please review_


	9. Chapter 9

**Complications **

**Chapter 9**

**Stardate 2260.71**

McCoy stared down at the bruised face of his friend and sighed heavily. It had been twelve hours since they'd dragged the captain back to the _Enterprise_ beaten and bloodied, a goddamned hole in his left lung, and Jim still hadn't woken. Brain signs were strong, the lung repaired, all that was left was for time to take its course and his body to heal fully, yet he remained unconscious.

"What am I supposed to do Jim?" he asked helplessly, sitting down heavily in the chair next to the biobed. "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

The past two weeks since their departure from M'Qtobau had been a special kind of hell for those on the _Enterprise_. Everyone was reeling from the dramatic death of the away team. They'd lost crewmembers before, obviously, starting with the ship's maiden voyage, but they'd never lost a whole away team. And they'd never had the stigma of members of their crew being blamed for the deaths of thousands of natives. The press had died down quickly and barely even reached Earth, but the idea had been planted; everything was laid at Marissa O'Donnell's feet.

Though Spock had predicted their orders to leave M'Qtobauan orbit almost to the minute, Jim hadn't been ready to leave. He'd spoken rationally while on the bridge, some Starfleet bureaucrat on the screen telling them that they had to leave. He'd argued and quoted regulations until the other man was absolutely confused and eventually signed off without Jim doing what he was told. That had bought them another half hour. Then it was another paper pusher, another argument, and this time another hour of peace while they continued their search.

There were a lot of smirks and hidden smiles as Jim matched wits with the Starfleet stooges who were trying to order him around. The crew had seen him at work before, with Spock, Nero and various other planetary officials and military leaders. They knew him to be a passionate and intelligent captain and leader, but to see his brilliance fully displayed as he fought to remain in orbit above M'Qtobau was awe inspiring. It also proved how much he cared for Lieutenant O'Donnell.

The third time he and Spock were ordered to the captain's ready room in order to await a transmission from Admiral Dekker. No one but Spock and Jim know exactly what was said, but it couldn't have been pleasant. The transmission went on for twenty minutes and though the ready room was relatively sound proofed, Jim's voice had been heard repeatedly, though not even Uhura could make out the words.

All McCoy knew was that it was Spock who had come back onto the bridge and ordered the ship to break orbit and make a heading for Aldebaran Nine. Then he had come over to McCoy and suggested that he see to the Captain.

When he had entered the room, Jim had been sitting in his chair behind his desk. One look at him and McCoy knew to approach cautiously, like he would a wounded predator; one that still had some fight left in him. The crunching glass beneath his boots startled him. The glasses Jim kept for drinks, as well as a cut glass decanter of Jim's favorite whiskey had been smashed against the wall. Looking around, McCoy also noticed a fist sized hole in the vidscreen.

"Jim, are you okay?" McCoy finally spoke. He knew it was an asinine question. There was no way in hell that Jim was okay. But he didn't know what else to say.

Not moving his eyes from the broken vidscreen, Jim shook his head slowly. "No Bones, I'm not," he stated tonelessly, his voice hoarse. "I'm to stand down as Captain…"

"What?" McCoy interrupted in astonishment.

Jim didn't even look over at him. "I'm to stand down as captain until they hold a disciplinary hearing sometime within the next three days. Spock's in charge until then."

"What the hell happened, Jim?" McCoy asked, standing in front of the desk.

"Apparently Dekker took exception to some of the things I said," Jim said flatly, this time with a wry upturn to his lips.

"I'm sure he did," McCoy agreed. "What… Good god, man!" he finally got a good look at Jim's right hand that was being cradled carefully by his left arm. Coming around the desk he knelt down in front of his friend. "Let me see that." The knuckles were bruised and the skin shredded. There were several large cuts over the back of his hand and wrist. "What the hell did you do?"

"I was done talking to Dekker, so I punched the screen," Jim shrugged.

"Of course," McCoy muttered, gently turning over Jim's wrist. "An effective way to end a transmission."

"I thought so," Jim replied, his eyes still glassy and staring off over McCoy's shoulder. He didn't even flinch when McCoy palpated the joint a little and found a cracked bone.

"Well, let's get you down to…"

"No," Jim finally took his eyes off the wall and focused them on his friend. "I… I can't… I need to…stay here. For a while. I can't face…"

"Okay, Jim," McCoy responded automatically. Standing, he placed a comforting hand on Jim's shoulder and squeezed. "I'll get Chapel to bring me…"

"Can you go get it?" Jim asked, a pleading look in his eyes now. "I don't really want people to know…" he glanced down at his hand and then at the vidscreen.

McCoy sighed. It wasn't like he could heal it right away, and it was going to be obvious that Jim had done something to his hand when it was bandaged up, but he could spare the man the indignity of dragging him down to Medical or calling down there and basically announcing to the whole nursing staff that the captain had injured himself. "Okay, Jim. I'll be a minute. Will you be okay on your own?"

Jim flinched. "It's not like I have a choice now, is it?" he asked, his eyes once again fixating blankly on the wall.

McCoy felt his stomach plummet. That was not the right choice of words. "Jesus, Jim. That's not what I meant. I…"

"I'll be fine, Bones," Jim interrupted. "Go get your stuff and your hyposprays and then maybe… maybe we can go get Abby and have dinner?" He looked up at McCoy. "Has she had dinner yet?"

"I don't know Jim. She's with Roose right now, but I'll check. I'm sure she'd love a little snack or dessert if she's already had dinner."

Jim simply nodded.

As he made his way down to medical, McCoy didn't know what to think. The smashed glass and broken vidscreen weren't nearly as much of a shock as the blank look on Jim's face. He was coherent, but he wasn't all there. McCoy didn't know if he expected to see tears, or for Jim to continue to rage, but the calm, quiet man sitting in the ready room wasn't a man that McCoy was familiar with.

Things had pretty much gone downhill from there. The hearing had been held two days later. Jim had an official reprimand in his file for insubordination against a superior officer and refusal to follow orders. Spock had managed to get them to insert that there had been mitigating circumstances due to the loss of his partner, but the black mark still stood.

Pike probably would have gone to bat for him, as Barnett had, but he was unavailable according to his yeoman. It wouldn't have done much good considering that Jim had calmly accused Franks and Dekker of orchestrating the mission as a way to attack Jim and Marissa. The two Admirals had sputtered and denied and shot accusations back at Jim of unprofessionalism and taking advantage of his position. In the end, Jim's comments had been tabled, but it was unlikely that Franks and Dekker would forget.

Spock had done most of the talking after that and Jim had managed to keep his mouth shut, simply glaring at the screen. He'd taken his reprimand with a blank face and had only flushed when he was chided by Admiral Komack that loosing crewmembers was something that all captains had to get used to, unfortunately, and that he should work on toughening his skin. As a parting shot it was well meant, but cruel.

Jim's temper didn't improve once he was reinstated as captain. Usually he was a serious, but amusing captain, open to discussions with his crewmembers at any time. Since M'Qtobau and Marissa's death, anytime someone attempted to offer him their condolences they were met with a stony silence and a withering stare. And any talk that wasn't ship's business was avoided.

Janice Rand took the brunt of Jim's temper. She and Marissa had become good friends as she was most likely to watch over Abby when Jim or Marissa weren't available. The first few days she always seemed to be red-eyed and on the verge of tears. She tried to hold it together, but she knew how close Jim and Marissa really were more than most members of the crew. After two days, Jim banished her from his presence, suggesting that she only contact him through his PADD. She'd left the bridge crying.

But it wasn't just Janice; Jim had managed to lose his temper with most of the bridge officers at some point or another. He nit-picked and harangued and was in a generally piss poor mood. Where the bridge used to be the heart and soul of the ship, the crew relaxed and efficient under Jim's guidance, it now was a place of tension. No one knew when Jim would snap; what word or action would be cause for a bruising set down. The crew still operated as a top notch team, but there was no longer any satisfaction to it. They did their jobs in order to avoid Jim's wrath, not because they wanted his approval.

It wasn't pretty and McCoy found himself avoiding the bridge, more often than not. But then, while Captain Jim was in a consistently bad mood, Daddy Jim was just as he ever was. Abby was the center of everything for Jim. He cherished and protected his time with his daughter and while they weren't seen out in the ship as often as they once were, when McCoy joined them for dinner a few times he saw the Jim he used to know, the Jim who could smile and laugh, even if the smiles didn't quite reach his eyes now and the laughter sounded a bit hollow. He was doing his best to keep it together for Abby, and as far as McCoy could tell, doing a hell of a job.

They'd had three away missions since M'Qtobau. One had been a meet and greet that Jim had bowed out of and sent McCoy and Spock in his place, another had been a trade dispute that Spock had handled, and the third one, the one that was the most dangerous, negotiations between two warring clans on a planet new to the Federation, had ended with Jim here in Medical and McCoy waiting for him to wake up.

Spock had been against the mission from the moment they'd received the transmission from the planet asking for arbitration, but Jim had been determined. McCoy wasn't sure if it was to prove a point, to somehow follow Marissa's wishes of aiding emerging cultures, or if Jim simply had a death wish, but in the end it didn't matter. The fighting had intensified, the away team had been attacked, but no one except Jim had been seriously injured. From what he'd heard from the security detail that had gone down with Jim, the negotiations were nothing more than a farce, one side's way of preening in front of the other. Jim had recognized it immediately and not played along, but when tempers had flared, Jim had jumped right in, protecting his team, but sacrificing himself needlessly.

"That's what fucking security is for, you idiot," McCoy muttered from Jim's bedside. "How am I supposed to keep you alive if you're trying to get yourself killed?"

"Not trying," Jim mumbled from the bio bed, his head turning slightly on the pillow to look over at McCoy. "Why you talking to you'self?"

McCoy stood up and leaned over Jim, placing one hand gently on his stomach and the other on his arm as he felt for the regular rhythm of Jim's breathing. "It's the only way I can get a decent conversation around here," he said acerbically. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," Jim replied. He tried to shrug his shoulders, but stopped mid motion as it pulled at his healing wounds, making him wince.

"I bet you have," McCoy agreed. "Well, you have a concussion. And I patched up that hole in your lung. The breaks in your left arm and ribs are healed, so if everything checks out in the morning, you can go back to your quarters, but you're off duty for the next forty-eight hours, at least."

"Abby?" Jim questioned.

"She's with Uhura and Spock tonight," McCoy told him. "Rand will watch her in the morning until you're released." Jim nodded, his eyes slipping closed. "What were you thinking, kid?" McCoy demanded, wanting to get answers before Jim slipped back to sleep.

"I don't know, Bones," Jim finally replied, his eyes still closed, but his face tense.

"It was a stupid mission. You never should've gone and you sure as hell should've gotten out o' there before everythin' went t' shit," McCoy ranted, his voice low, his accent starting to come out.

Jim shook his head. "I'm tired Bones," he said softly.

"I know that Jim," McCoy said caustically, "but I want to get this out while you have to sit there 'n listen to me. I know you're hurting. I'm sorry Marissa's dead. And I know you're trying to hold it together, but you're doing a piss poor job and if you're going to go out and get yourself killed…" Jim's eyes were now squeezed shut, his face turned away and grimacing in pain, though not the physical kind. "Do you know how close you came to dying? Two more inches and you would've bled out before you even reached the transporter pad. Two inches, Jim, and Abby would have lost both her parents."

"I didn't mean…." Jim tried to get in.

"I know you didn't mean to get yourself killed," McCoy interrupted, "Not consciously, but…"

"You saying that I wanted to subconsciously?" Jim snapped, now glaring at his friend.

McCoy rocked back on his heels and stared at Jim for a moment. "Yeah, Jim. That's what I'm saying. You have so much grief tied up inside you. I think you went on this mission knowing it was stupid and dangerous and… yes, subconsciously I think you might have wanted to die. Maybe just a tiny bit of you, but… enough."

"You're wrong," Jim told him, once again turning his head away.

"I hope so," McCoy said softly. "But Jim, you have to work through this. Ubantua is willing to talk with you."

"I don't need counseling," Jim gritted his teeth. "I'm fine."

"The hell you are," McCoy countered. "Marissa is dead. She's gone. She's not coming back."

"I know that, Bones," Jim snapped. "I don't need the reminder."

"Well then you have to get control of yourself," McCoy snapped back. "You're biting off people's heads. The bridge is tense whenever you're there. People are afraid to talk to you. We know you're hurting Jim. We understand, but you're making it hard on everyone else. You're the captain. The crew needs to see you as approachable and accessible, and you're not. Not now."

Jim gaped at him for a moment, his eyes wide and, if he wasn't mistaken there was a slight sheen to them. Good, McCoy thought. He needs to cry.

"I… she…I don't mean to…" he stumbled for words.

"I know Jim," McCoy said softly, reaching out and squeezing Jim's arm again. "I know how much she meant to you, and I think the crew is realizing it too. And I know it's early. She's only been…gone… for a couple weeks. They don't begrudge you the mourning, but you can't push it too far. You have to get a hold of your temper and control your impulses. We need you to be the captain we've known and loved these past two years."

"Ah, Bones, you love me?" Jim said, his voice thick as he tried to joke, a small smile fluttering on his lips.

"You know I do, you idiot," McCoy smiled fondly. "And the crew loves you. They want to help you, and if you can't handle that right now, fine. But you can't keep on giving them the silent treatment and the cold shoulder."

"I just don't know what to say," Jim whispered.

"Thank you, will suffice," McCoy told him. "They know this is hard on you. Just say thank you."

Jim thought about it for a moment and then he nodded briefly. "Okay, I'll… I'll try."

"That's all I ask," McCoy replied. "Oh, and could you cut Janice a break? She's making Chapel's life difficult, which is making my life difficult. I really want my head nurse to be happy, you know? And Janice misses Marissa, too."

Smiling slightly, Jim nodded. "I'd hate for there to be trouble in paradise."

"Good, now get some rest, we'll see how you're doing in the morning," McCoy said, grabbing for the privacy curtain.

"Bones," Jim called out, just as he started pulling the curtain around the bed.

"Yeah, Jim?"

"Thank you," Jim told him sincerely.

McCoy smiled. "You're welcome, kid."

xXx

Jim held Abby as she fell asleep, his mind drifting over the past two days. He'd been on medical leave after the disastrous away mission on Dubiwiiy. He'd enjoyed the time with Abby. It reminded him of Stratnon when he and Marissa had been able to watch over her for a full nine days only needing babysitters for a few hours at a time.

While he played with Abby and recovered from his injuries he thought a lot about what Bones had said to him that night in Medical when he first woke up. He was letting his anger get the best of him and he was taking it out on his crew. He felt horrible about it, and while he wasn't ready to talk with Ubantau, he was willing to talk with those closest to him.

He started with Janice the first afternoon he was off duty. She'd been very shy and hesitant when he'd called her to his quarters during Abby's afternoon nap, but once he explained – badly – why he had called her and how sorry he was for his actions, the dam had burst and Janice had cried and sniffled all over him. He did his best to comfort her as she sobbingly told him how sorry she was and how much she missed Marissa and how she would do anything to help him and Abby, anything at all.

It had been painful and uncomfortable for Jim, but once she was done crying and Jim had thanked her for her kind thoughts and words and promised to ask her first if he needed anything, she had given him a relieved smile and when she walked out his door she looked a lot less burdened than when she had walked in.

He spoke with Spock and Uhura over dinner in his quarters, and while it had been awkward, his thanks and apologies had been warmly received, at least by Uhura. Spock had remained quiet, but that was nothing new.

Tonight he had visited Ten Forward with Abby when he knew that a lot of his alpha bridge crew would be relaxing. Abby had easily broken the ice with Chekov and Sulu. The resulting conversation had been stilted and uncomfortable, but he was pretty sure his pilot and navigator knew what he was trying to get across.

Hannity, Roose and Marie from cartography had all teared up when he had approached them, but he'd muddled through. The rest of the evening had gone well enough. A few other crewmembers had eventually approached him and he began to feel a bit more comfortable in his own skin, but now that he was back in his rooms the melancholy was beginning to set in again.

Each night since Marissa had been gone, Jim had done his best to keep to their nightly routine of story time and songs before bed. Some evenings Abby would actually fall asleep in his arms and he would stay in the rocking chair holding her until late in the night, his mind turning to Marissa and trying to make sense of her loss, all the while absorbing the essence of Abby, the most precious gift Marissa had given him.

Sometimes, when the thought of letting Abby go hurt too much, Jim would carefully rise from the chair and rather than leave Abby in her crib, he would carry her into his own room and tuck her into his bed. Then, stretching himself out alongside her, he would fitfully doze, always fearing more nightmares of the sort that had plagued him since Marissa had been gone. Oftentimes, just having Abby next to him would keep them at bay.

Abby still asked for her mother constantly and each time it was like a stabbing wound to his heart. He had no idea how to tell a toddler that her mother was gone and that she wouldn't be coming back, because he had no idea how to explain it to himself.

As the nights crept by, the greatest pain for Jim was his tremendous guilt in never telling Marissa that he loved her. He'd come close a few times, but had never actually said those three important words. He knew she wanted to hear them, didn't everyone? But he was afraid; unsure if he was even capable of saying them to a woman. Afraid of commitment, of making a promise, of being tied down – he never could identify why he was afraid, but now he deeply regretted his cowardice. Sure, he supported her work, he helped with Abby in every way he could, he gave her a good time in bed and was an attentive lover, he'd even asked her to marry him before Abby was born, but he never told her how he really felt. He'd never told her that he did love her; not because she shared his bed or because she was the mother of his child, but because she was simply Marissa and she meant everything to him.

His anguish and guilt was once again preventing him from falling asleep, even as he listened to Abby's snuffling snores beside him, and instead of dealing with it on his own he suddenly wanted to talk with Bones. Every problem he'd had since joining Starfleet had resulted in a long talk with Bones, usually with some degree of success in finding a solution or resolving an issue. Not that he imagined that Bones could bring Marissa back, or even patch up his broken heart, but Jim just felt the need to talk with someone, and Bones was always the person he turned to – before Marissa.

The chiming of his communication unit in his office interrupted his downward spiraling thoughts. Carefully getting up off his bed so as not to disturb Abby, Jim went into his office and hit the comm. "Yes?" he asked tiredly.

"Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you so late," one of the communication ensigns told him. "But you have a priority one transmission from Admiral Pike."

The clenching of his gut eased when he realized it was from Pike rather than Franks or Dekker. This wasn't going to be a fun conversation, but he would rather talk to Pike than any other admiral.

"Patch it through," he told her.

"Yes Captain."

In the blink of an eye, Pike's face was on screen in front of him.

"Jesus Kirk, you look like shit," he said bluntly.

Jim couldn't help smirking. "And it's good to see you too, Admiral. I must say your tan is looking very nice."

Pike narrowed his eyes. "I went home to the Mojave for a couple weeks of leave. Frigging doctors are bossy around here."

"I wouldn't know anything about bossy doctors," Jim replied sarcastically.

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Pike countered wryly. He looked Jim over carefully and Jim did his best not to flinch. "What the hell, Kirk? I'm out of the loop for a few weeks and your life goes to hell - again."

Jim just shrugged uncomfortably. What could he say?

"How are you doing, son?" Pike asked, his voice more gentle than Jim ever remembered hearing it. "I was serious when I said you look like shit. Isn't McCoy making you rest? And are you eating? Your skin is hanging off you and you never had much to lose to begin with."

"I had a little altercation on Dubiwiiy with some natives," Jim told him. "I'm recovering fine. Today is my last day of medical leave and then I'm back on light duty."

Eyebrows raised, Pike continued to look at him expectantly. When Jim didn't offer anything else he sighed. "How are you really?"

"I…" Jim began, his first instinct to deny and deflect coming to the fore, but he caught Pike's warning look. "I'm coping, sir."

"That doesn't tell me much, Kirk."

Jim shrugged. "I don't know what else to tell you, sir."

There was silence as Pike continued to watch him, and Jim continued to avoid eye contact. "I'm sorry I wasn't available for your hearing," he finally offered. "Like I said, I was on leave – enforced medical leave – but if I'd known…I've had words with my yeoman. I would have been there if I'd known."

Shaking his head, Jim offered his mentor a small smile. "It's okay sir. You probably wouldn't have been able to do much. Barnett tried. I'd already dug my own grav…" he blanched at his choice of words and cleared his throat uncomfortably, "hole," he completed. "After what I'd said and done, they had to do something."

Pike shook his head. "And here I thought you were getting good at this whole diplomacy thing," he said wryly.

"I am good," Jim protested, without any ego. "Just not when it's my own superiors stabbing me in the back," his eyes flashing.

"Jim…"

"Don't try to placate me, Admiral," Jim cut him off angrily. "If it wasn't for Franks and Dekker and how they've been riding my ass from the moment I stepped onto the _Enterprise_ Marissa would be here today and Abby would have a mother and I would have…" he trailed off, his chest heaving.

"Coping, are you?"

"I'm trying," Jim retorted, his anger fading as suddenly as it had errupted. "But it's hard when you know your life has been totally fucked by your superior officers."

"Not all your superior officers," Pike commented.

Jim instantly caught that Pike didn't protest the concept. "Not all," he agreed, "but one is enough, and two…"

"Jim, I can't," Pike protested.

"I know, sir," Jim shook his head. "Your part of the club and I'm a subordinate."

Pike remained silent, waiting for Jim to look at him. "I may be part of the club, as you put it, but that doesn't mean I like it – or everyone – in the club. There are rules I have to play by too, and…"

"Don't worry about it Admiral," Jim waved dismissively.

"I do worry about it, Jim," Pike told him. "And I worry about you. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you. And I'm so sorry about what happened to Marissa. Do you know what happened?"

"We don't know a damn thing," Jim said bitterly. "We know it was a lost cause before she even went down there. We know that the contact who supposedly arranged the whole thing had no idea she was coming. We know that her party was moving to the city of Malloribia with intentions of going hiking in the mountains, but that the bomb, or whatever it was, went off six hours after they arrived. Aside from the lies the M'Qtobauan press is telling about Marissa and what she supposedly said, we don't know a damn thing about what really happened down there and Starfleet has decided to respect the M'Qtobauan Viceroy's wishes and stay the hell away. Marissa's been written off as an overeager xenohistorian who pushed too fast and too hard."

"I don't think any of this has reached Earth," Pike told him.

Jim smirked derisively. "Not surprising. M'Qtobau is a tiny little planet of very little interest except for the minerals they mine and Marissa is just a xenohistorian who happened to make a database that caught the interest of Starfleet."

"She was more than that," Pike protested gently.

"I know that, sir," Jim replied bitterly. "Not many others do."

"I do," Pike told him.

Jim nodded stiffly. "Thanks," he whispered, before clearing his throat. "Here's something else not many others know. On Stratnon UNISTAR attempted to recruit Marissa. They came to our suite and tried to talk her into jumping ship. Said they'd take me too, if it would get her to leave."

"Really?" Pike leaned forward, suddenly extremely interested.

"Really," Jim nodded, not really focusing on Pike. "She said no, of course. We've seen what UNISTAR has done to planets that have resources they want. There's no way in hell either of us would support that. But she saw them, the men who tried to recruit her. She saw them on M'Qtobau and I can't figure out what they were doing there. She didn't know either, but I can't help thinking they had something…"

"UNISTAR doesn't deal in most minerals, Jim," Pike cut him off, sounding like the admiral he was, rather than a friend or mentor. "Dilithium only, as far as I know. It has a bigger profit margin."

"I know that," Jim replied in frustration. "That's why I can't figure it out. They deal with just about everything, but minerals. I…"

"Don't you have other things to worry about?" Pike asked. "You know, like running a ship and a taking care of your daughter? How is my honorary granddaughter?"

Jim finally gave Pike a real smile. "She's good. Nineteen months old now and really chatty. She can talk your ear off about her guys and her piano. Not all of it makes sense, but she loves to talk."

"How's she handling everything else?"

Jim frowned. "She…she still thinks mama is coming home soon," he said. "I try…" he cleared his throat. "I've tried to explain that she isn't, but when Marissa first left that's what I told her, soon, and she's latched on to it. I don't know what else to tell her."

"I'm so sorry, Jim," Pike told him, his sympathy obvious. "Marissa was a wonderful woman, and a fine officer. Starfleet needs more like her. And I know she meant a lot to you."

Jim could only nod. Accepting condolences was hard.

"You two had a good thing going," Pike continued. "I didn't know her as well as I know you, but I could tell how close you two were. How much you really loved each other."

"I never told her," Jim found himself whispering before he could stop himself.

Pike gave him a small smile. "She knew," Pike told him. "She knew how you felt. It's not always easy for men like us to say the words, but…she knew Jim."

"I hope so," Jim replied thickly. Squeezing the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes tightly, Jim took a deep breath. "Look, admiral, it's late and…"

"I'll let you go, Jim," Pike offered. "But I want you to promise me that you'll keep me informed on what's going on, okay? I want to know about any…bumps…you encounter first hand, not through the grapevine, got it?"

"Yes, sir," Jim agreed.

"Take care of yourself. Abby and the _Enterprise_ need you."

"I'll do my best, sir," Jim told him.

"Pike out."

Jim sat back and tried to force himself to relax. God he wanted a drink. Before Pike had contacted him he had wanted to talk to Bones, but now he really needed to talk to his friend. His guilt was still weighing him down despite what Pike had said.

"This better be good," came the gruff response almost immediately after he pushed the button to connect with Bones' personal comm.

Jim almost smiled. "Yeah, Bones. Come to my quarters, I have some Kentucky bourbon I've been saving. I think we need to drink it."

"Damn it Jim, I was just goin' to shower and go to bed," McCoy grouched. "I don't need to spend tomorrow hung over. I'm on alpha."

Jim thought about letting it be; letting Bones continue with his plans for the evening, but that persistent need to talk to someone; to explain to someone why he was hurting, wouldn't leave him. "Bones. I need to talk to you," Jim said quietly. "Please?"

There was a long silence and Jim began to feel a bit nervous. "Bones? You still there?" he asked.

"Yeah, kid. I'm coming," he replied.

A couple minutes later the door to Jim's quarters slid open and McCoy entered. He nodded to Jim who was in the kitchen getting glasses, before he continued down the hall to Abby's room. Jim placed the bottle of bourbon on the coffee table along with the glasses and then stood and looked around the living area. Even though he had Crewmember Michaels acting as a steward to help with the housekeeping, the rooms still needed a bit more attention. Without Marissa's care and effort the place was a mess especially after two full days of both Jim and Abby being home.

Knowing McCoy wouldn't find Abby in her crib, Jim wandered over to the open door to his bedroom to see McCoy pulling the blanket up to Abby's shoulders and tucking Sehlat next to her. The blanket would probably end up tangled in her feet by morning, but Jim appreciated the thought. Once Bones had placed a kiss on Abby's head and stood up, Jim silently motioned him toward the living area, letting the door close completely behind them.

Sitting down on the couch, McCoy reached out for the obviously old bottle of bourbon, his eyebrows raised to his hairline. The paper label was brittle and brown with age, but the words "Makers Mark" were still barely visible.

"Where the hell did you get this?" he asked in stunned disbelief. "And why haven't you had it out before?"

"I picked it up on Stratnon," Jim shrugged. "I don't like bourbon much, but Marissa does…did," he corrected himself, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "I was saving it for a special occasion, but tonight I realized there's nothing to save it for any longer."

McCoy said nothing, setting the bottle down and sitting back into his seat. He waited and watched his friend.

Jim was quiet for a long time, standing behind the couch. Finally, he moved around to sit on the end opposite McCoy. He silently reached out and began to open the bottle, pouring them each a generous three fingers. Handing McCoy a glass, Jim raised his in a toast. "Here's to nothing," he said solemnly before he tossed the drink back and swallowed the fiery liquid.

McCoy drank it down and watched Jim pour them another glass, unsure of what to say.

"Cheers," Jim held up his glass again before he downed it. McCoy followed suit. If he couldn't find anything to say, he could at least drink with his friend. Jim poured them another shot and then downed that one too.

With an unsteady hand, he poured again and then sat back. Jim held his glass under his nose, breathing in the heady fumes, but he didn't drink it this time, only held it between his knees as he leaned forward, his eyes fixed on a spot on the carpet, his mind obviously elsewhere.

Finally, Jim turned his head towards McCoy. With a voice completely devoid of life or energy, he said, "I never told her I loved her."

"That has to hurt," McCoy said, looking at his friend sympathetically.

Jim sighed and fell back against the couch, putting his feet up on the table, his eyes closed tightly. "It's killing me, Bones." He emptied his glass and poured another.

"She knew, Jim," McCoy finally said, knowing it was cold comfort. "Anyone who saw you two together knew how you felt about each other."

Jim shook his head. "But I never said it, Bones. She was afraid I'd want out or that I'd find someone else or that I would get tired of her. I'd tell her I wanted her, that she made me happy, that I'd never let her go and that I'd hold her forever, but I never said it. I never said I loved her."

"I don't know what to say Jim," McCoy told him honestly. "You can't change the past and, well, regrets are a bitch." He downed his drink and poured himself another glass when Jim nudged the bottle towards him with his foot.

"Yeah, I know," Jim laughed humorlessly. "And they're pretty damn hard to live with."

"You've been makin' progress, though," McCoy pointed out, his accent coming on a bit stronger. "I heard tell you and Abby were in Ten Forward tonight, talkin' with people. And Janice seems a lot happier since yesterday."

"Yeah, I've been trying not to be such an asshole," Jim said despondently. "I'm glad Janice is doing better. Talking to her… that was hard, man."

"I can imagine," McCoy nodded. "I don't really see what Chris sees in her. A bit too high maintenance, for my tastes."

"But a hell of a yeoman," Jim countered, holding up his glass as a toast.

"To keep you in line? She'd have to be," McCoy agreed, knocking his glass against Jim's before they emptied them again.

They sat in silence for a couple minutes, sipping from their refilled glasses this time and enjoying the burn as it made its way down to their stomachs. "Look Jim," McCoy finally spoke. "I can sit here all night spouting platitudes, but you just have to believe that she knew it. I believe that she knew that you loved her."

"But I nev…"

"So, you never said it," McCoy interrupted. "She knew it. You showed her with actions and with the way you were around her. Hell, you spent a goddamn fortune on that necklace you gave her. Whether you said the words or not, Marissa knew. Hell, if I could tell how head over heels you were, I'm sure she could. Women are much more perceptive – though don't tell Christine I said that."

"I just want to know for sure," Jim sighed.

"Well, you ain't gonna," McCoy told him, though he didn't mean to be harsh, just honest. "But you can believe me; she loved you and she knew you loved her. She was willin' to have another baby, wasn't she? A woman doesn't do that if she's not secure in the feelings of the guy she's with."

"Yeah, she was willing," Jim said softly, his eyes now focused on the alcohol in his glass. "She wanted another baby."

"Ah hell," McCoy looked at his glass and then back at his friend. "This stuff must be stronger than I'm used to. I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay Bones," Jim smiled sadly, his head rolling on the back of the couch. "It's not like I don't think of it every day; every time I think of Marissa. I didn't only lose her, I lost our baby too, before I even got to know it."

Holding up his glass, Jim looked sadly over at McCoy. "To living with regrets. It's a bitch."

_Please Review_

_Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there! _

_It's hard to believe that last year on Mother's Day I was posting Chapter 21 of _Consequences_ where Marissa visits Janine on Starbase 17. This story has come a long way since then! Thank you to all of you who have been there from the beginning or joined along the way. I try to write for myself, but I love sharing my stories, too._


	10. Chapter 10

**Complications**

**Chapter 10**

**Stardate 2260.74**

"So, how are you doing?"

"Fine, fine. I'm doing… I'm okay," Jim finally admitted to the vidscreen.

"Seriously Jim?"

"What do you want me to say, Janine?" Jim asked, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I miss her. Every day, every night, every hour. I'm having trouble sleeping unless Abby's in bed with me like a goddamn teddy bear and I know it's not good for her. I know that. But it's hard to sleep alone when all I want to do is reach over and…" he trailed off. "I'm dealing with it."

"Oh, Jim. Have you tried to talk with Ubantau?" Janine asked.

Jim growled as he glared at the screen. "You've been talking with Bones," he accused.

She nodded. "I have. We're worried about you. And Abby," Janine admitted. "Len says you're doing an awesome job with her, but you need to take time for yourself too. You have to grieve, Jim."

"I am grieving, damn it," Jim declared, slapping his hand on his desk. "I'm grieving everyday. Every time I pick up Abby or look at a new planet or glance at my fucking bathroom sink and see that her things aren't there anymore. I am fucking grieving and I wish you guys would just leave me alone." He was breathing heavily by the time he was done with his rant, but when he looked up at the screen he felt instantly guilty seeing the tears on Janine's face. "Oh, god," he hung his head, "I'm so sorry Janine. I didn't mean… I'm sorry."

"I know, Jim," Janine sniffed, wiping at her eyes. "I don't mean to push, but we're…I'm worried about you."

"Welcome to the club," he said sarcastically. "But seriously, I'm doing what I can, okay? I'm getting through each day and for the most part I'm not…I'm not biting off anyone's head."

"But why are you so angry?" Janine asked.

Jim gave a humorless laugh. "Why am I angry?" he asked harshly. "Why? Because she shouldn't be gone, Janine. She should be here right now, taking care of Abby and watching her grow up and learning new words and playing new songs on her piano. Because she should be sleeping in my arms every night and laughing at my horrible attempts at jokes. That's why I'm fucking angry."

"But Jim, it's not your fault," Janine started to speak.

"The hell it isn't," Jim countered. "I'm the captain. I am…was… her captain. I knew the mission was bullshit. I knew it was a waste of her time. And I let her go anyway, against my better judgment and now she's… she's gone Janine and it's my fault. My fucking fault."

"Jim, you were just following orders. You couldn't have known that… that what happened would happen," Janine tried to console him.

Jim shook his head. "If I'd had the balls to stand up to Franks and tell him to stick his…"

"Stop, Jim," Janine interrupted, her expression filled with pain. "Just stop. Marissa wouldn't have let you do that. I know she wouldn't have. You couldn't have known that the M'Qtobauans would react so violently to her presence. Marissa couldn't have guessed it. She was doing her job, following orders, just like you were. It wasn't your fault."

"I shouldn't have listened," Jim repeated. "I knew it was a bad idea, but I went along with it to keep the admiralty happy. To get them off my back about our relationship, and look where that got me? Alone. With a toddler to raise. She shouldn't be gone, Janine. And it's my fault."

"Oh Jim," Janine sighed, wiping more tears from her face. "Marissa would never blame you for this."

Jim snorted. "Well I blame me."

"Well stop it," Janine told him. "It's not good for you and it's not good for Abby. She may not understand now, but someday she will and you are not to blame for her mother's death."

"I'm the captain, Janine," Jim said softly, "who else is to blame?"

"The bastards who thought bombing an entire city was a good way to send a message," Janine answered hotly. "They're to blame. You're a victim in this Jim."

Briefly covering his face, Jim shook his head before looking back at the screen. "You don't understand."

"I don't," Janine agreed, which actually surprised Jim if the expression on his face was anything to go by. "That's why you need to talk to someone who can help you. Sporadic vidcalls and drunken nights with Len aren't what you need."

"Jesus," Jim looked bemused, "is there anything he doesn't tell you?"

"Not much," Janine replied with a small smile. "You need to let go of your anger and this unreasonable guilt. You need to grieve and let her go. She wouldn't want to see you like this. You've lost what? Five? Seven, eight kilos?"

"What if I don't want to let her go?" Jim asked quietly after hesitating for a minute, unable to look up at the vidscreen. "What if…We couldn't search for her. We don't have any physical proof like a…a body. What if…"

"No Jim," Janine shook her head, her voice sad, but firm. "There are no what ifs. Marissa is dead. Even Spock believes it."

"I know." He dejectedly hung his head.

"Len mentioned that Janice wants to put together a memorial service for Marissa, but you won't let her."

"It's too soon," Jim stated, his head snapping up and some steel coming back into his gaze.

"It's been almost four weeks, Jim," Janine said calmly, not reacting to his anger. "It's more than time. You're not the only one who needs to grieve. Other people loved and cared for Marissa."

"I know that," Jim said stubbornly, "and there have been other services for the away team."

"But not for Marissa," Janine countered.

"No. I just can't…I don't want to…" he trailed off.

"You don't want to let her go," Janine finished for him. "But you have to, Jim, for your sake as well as Abby's."

Jim sighed, looking away from the vidscreen and Marissa's best friend. His eye caught the flashing light on the comm. unit that meant Uhura was paging him. "Look, Janine, it looks like I have another call coming in. Honestly," he said as she narrowed eyes at him suspiciously. "I promise to… to think about a memorial, okay?"

"I guess it's a start," Janine replied. "And think about talking to Ubantau, while you're at it."

"Don't push your luck," Jim replied wryly.

"I had to try," Janine grinned sadly. "Kiss Abby for me and take better care of yourself," she ordered.

Jim nodded. "I will. Take care, Janine."

"Bye, Jim," she said before the screen went blank.

Rubbing his hands over his face and taking a deep breath to collect himself, Jim reached over to switch on the connection to the bridge.

"What do you need, Lieutenant?" Jim asked briskly.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your conversation, Captain," she responded. "But you have an incoming transmission from Earth."

"Starfleet?" Jim asked, trying not to grimace.

"No, sir," Uhura replied, her voice low. "It's from Colorado Child Protective Services."

"Who?" he asked, nonplussed.

"Colorado Child Protective Services," Uhura answered. If Jim was trying to read anything into her tone, he would imagine she sounded a bit concerned.

Sitting back in his chair, Jim looked up the ceiling and tried to calm his suddenly racing heart. He had no idea what this call was about, but it had to be important for whoever it was to be willing to pay for a transmission across this much space. Colorado meant it had to have something to do with Marissa's family, but the child protective services part made his skin grow cold. What the hell was Matthew up to?

When Jim had finally managed to contact the O'Donnell's two days after leaving M'Qtobau, the news had already reached them. Jim had listened to Matthew rant and rave about how it was all Jim's fault and that if he had been a decent captain Marissa would never have been put in harm's way. He had gone on and on and Jim had said nothing, stoically taking every verbal punch the man had thrown, feeling it was his due for not protecting Marissa. There wasn't a single thing Matthew said that Jim hadn't agreed with.

He'd almost lost it when Nancy had pulled Matthew away. Her eyes were red and swollen and she had the gall to ask about him and how he was doing. Jim hadn't been able to respond, just shaking his head and repeating over and over, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Off screen he'd heard Matthew declare that, "sorry won't bring my baby girl back." He'd flinched at the words, but welcomed the pain of them, wishing it would make things better somehow.

"Oh Jim," Nancy had said, her voice hitching on his name. "Please don't… Matthew's hurting right now. We all are, but it's not your fault."

"The hell it isn't!" Matthew's voice came from off screen.

"I…" Jim tried to find the words, anything that would make it better. Anything that would stop Nancy's tears and Matthew's inconsolable rage. "I'm sorry," he whispered again. "I didn't mean to… didn't want…"

There was the sound of something breaking off screen and Nancy looked over her shoulder quickly. "Jim, take care of yourself," she said, looking back at him. "I have to go. Matthew… Just take care of yourself, Jim." And then the screen went blank. Jim stared at it for a long minute before he began dry heaving into a wastebasket. He'd caused Matthew's and Nancy's horrible grief. He didn't even know how Nana and the kids were handling it, but it didn't matter. He'd done it and there was no way to fix it.

"Captain?" Uhura interrupted his thoughts. "Shall I patch it through?'

"Uh, yes," Jim cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Please, Lieutenant."

"Right away, sir."

True to her word, the image of a balding man with a round face and glasses filled his vidscreen.

"Hello, I'm Captain James T. Kirk, of the USS _Enterprise_, how may I be of assistance?" he asked, his hands folded on his desk as he gazed politely at the screen.

"Captain Kirk," the man nodded stiffly. "I am Kenneth Smee, an attorney in Denver, Colorado. I represent Matthew O'Donnell, the father of your former…partner. I believe Ms. O'Donnell gave birth to a child recently and that you acknowledge that you are the father of said child, is that correct?"

"Yes," Jim replied, the hairs on the back of his neck beginning to stand up. He did not like the way this conversation was going. "Abby is almost twenty months old now."

"Is the child on board the ship with you?" the man asked.

"Of course," Jim's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Mr. O'Donnell has filed suit in the Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals for custody of the minor, Abigail Rose Kirk O'Donnell…"

"Kirk," Jim interrupted.

"Excuse me?" the lawyer looked up from his papers.

"Abigail Rose Kirk," Jim enunciated clearly. "There is no O'Donnell in her name."

"Well, be that as it may," the man said officiously, straightening his papers, "Mr. O'Donnell has filed suit demanding that sole custody of the child be granted to him due to the untimely loss of his daughter, the child's mother, Marissa Rose O'Donnell. As grandfather of Abigail he…"

"No," Jim stated firmly, his knuckles white where he was gripping his hands together. He was expecting something bad, but not something like this. How dare Matthew think that he could take Abby away from him? Jim felt his stomach knot and his temper start to boil.

"As the grandfather of Abigail," the man continued as if Jim hadn't even spoken, "he insists that you release the child into the custody of the Child Protective Services on Starbase 23 by Stardate 2260.76, from there she will be transported to Mr. O'Donnell on Earth."

"No," Jim replied again, surprised that his voice remained calm. "She's my daughter and I'm not handing her over to anyone. Not even her grandfather."

"Mr. Kirk," the man began.

"Captain," Jim snapped.

"Captain Kirk," the man started again, not looking the least cowed. "If you contest this filing Mr. O'Donnell is willing and able to sue for custody."

"She's my daughter," Jim repeated.

"True, but Mr. O'Donnell deems you to be an unfit parent."

"Excuse me?" Jim looked at him incredulously.

"You are a captain of a Constitution class starship, are you not?"

"Yes," Jim nodded.

"How can a man – a single man – with such responsibilities, raise a child in such an environment?"

"I've been doing fine so far," Jim countered.

"As captain, you will not have the time to devote to Abigail that Mr. O'Donnell and his wife will have. Your priorities are your ship and your crew…"

"Don't tell me what my priorities are," Jim argued. "Abby is my daughter and she is my number one priority."

"But how can you see to her needs while captaining the _Enterprise_?" the lawyer countered. "Has your ship ever been fired upon?"

"Yes," Jim answered honestly.

"Have there been hull breaches, or hostile beings on your ship?"

"Yes."

"Can you honestly say that living on a ship like yours is a safe environment for a young child?"

Jim hesitated. "No where is perfectly safe, not even in Colorado," Jim replied.

"But some are safer than others," the lawyer countered. "I must warn you, Captain, Mr. O'Donnell does not have an unprecedented case for custody of Abigail. Her mother, the child's primary caretaker, is deceased. Your job is not without significant risk of life and the mental and physical wellbeing of the child. There is no way that you can see to the child's needs without compromising your ship, and vice versa. And there is the matter of your past. Mr. O'Donnell has intimated that due to your own childhood and adolescence you are not the best role model to be raising a child. He is more than willing to bring such matters up in open court if this will secure the safety of his granddaughter."

"Are you threatening me?" Jim asked softly, his voice barely above a growl.

The lawyer shrugged. "I am simply stating that Mr. O'Donnell will do what he must to obtain custody of Abigail. He has her best interests at heart."

"The hell he does," Jim finally snapped. "He wants to take her away from the only home she has ever known while she's still trying to figure out why her mother's not here. He wants me to just drop her off at some space station so some stranger can take her back to Earth? I don't think so. Right now I am the only constant Abby has. She's my daughter and I am not giving her up. You file whatever case you want to file, Mr. Smee, but Mr. O'Donnell is not getting my daughter."

"Well, then you will be hearing from me again shortly, Captain."

"I look forward to it," Jim said snidely. "Kirk out."

With great satisfaction, Jim ended the transmission. "Fuck!" he yelled, his heart racing and his breathing suddenly coming in gasps. Of all the low down, rotten things to do. How could Matthew even think…? How could Nancy allow him to do this? They'd only seen Abby for less than a week. They were good people, at least Jim thought Nancy was, and they had doted on both Marissa and Abby, but for them to think that he would ever give up his daughter? It was ridiculous.

Consciously relaxing his fists, Jim sat back and tried to even out his breathing. This was stupid. He was Abby's father. Matthew couldn't just take her away from him. He didn't care if the lawyer had said that Matthew's case wasn't without precedence; he wasn't a drug addicted loser, or some washed up bum, he was the captain of Starfleet's flagship, and the fucking Hero of Earth. No one was taking away his daughter, unless it was over his dead body, and if that was the case he would make damn sure that Matthew was the last person in the universe that Abby would go to.

Once the rage had subsided, Jim shakily sat forward and swiped his hands across his face as he reached for the comm. "Bones, can you come to my ready room for a minute?" he asked in a relatively calm voice once his friend had responded to his page.

"Sure, kid," McCoy responded. "What's up?"

Jim closed his eyes again. "Just…come up here, please?" he asked again, his voice thickening.

There was a long drawn out breath. "Okay, do I need to bring anything?"

"No, I have some whiskey here. Just come."

Within two minutes McCoy sauntered into Jim's ready room. "This must be good if you're invitin' me up here to drink in the middle of a shift. What's goin' on?"

Jim didn't say anything at first. Instead he poured them each two fingers of whiskey. Handing McCoy his glass, Jim nodded for his friend to have a seat at the conference table. Once they were both seated, Jim held his own glass up, watching the light reflect off the amber liquid, before he sighed and took a sip.

"I have just been informed that Marissa's father is planning to sue me for custody of Abby," he stated calmly enough, though his hand still shook with repressed rage as he set his glass down.

"What the hell?" McCoy declared, as he slammed his glass on the table.

"Yeah," Jim agreed, pursing his lips and not looking over at McCoy.

"He… he barely knows her."

"True."

"She didn't really take to him at all on Stratnon."

"Also true," Jim agreed, finishing off his drink.

"He's only met her the one time, right?" McCoy asked.

"Yeah, on Stratnon," Jim nodded. "After I paid for him to come meet us, the son of a bitch." Jim looked longingly over at the decanter of whiskey, but sighed and shook his head. Now wasn't the time to get blitzed.

McCoy didn't seem to have the same scruples. He stood up angrily and poured himself another shot. "What are you going to do?" he asked, leaning back against the sideboard and looking curiously at Jim.

"Fight him," Jim instantly responded, his blue eyes flashing angrily. "I'm her father. He wants to call me an unfit parent, fine, but he's going to have to prove it."

"Unfit?" McCoy repeated indignantly. "What the hell?"

"That's what the lawyer said," Jim replied. "He said Matthew thought I was an unfit parent and then he insinuated that the _Enterprise_ wasn't the safest place for a child to be raised." Seeing McCoy's skeptical look, Jim leaned forward with an angry sigh. "I know it's not the safest place in the universe, but it's not like we're living on a terraforming planet or in some other primitive area. The _Enterprise_ can defend herself and Abby is perfectly safe. And she has family here. People she knows and loves. That's got to be worth something, right?"

"Of course, Jim," McCoy agreed quickly.

"I mean, what is there for her in Colorado? Grandparents she doesn't know, young aunts and an uncle she barely knows." He looked angrily up at McCoy. "The bastard just wants me to drop her off at Starbase 23 like she's some lost puppy and then someone – who the fuck knows who – will take her to Earth."

"There's about a snowball's chance in hell of that happening," McCoy snorted. "What else did the lawyer say?"

Jim ran his hands over his face and through his hair. "He said that Matthew's case is not without precedent and that he was willing to bring up my…my past and my childhood in open court if that's what it took to get custody of Abby."

"What? That shit should have no bearing on this at all."

"I know," Jim agreed, shaking his head. "He's threatening me. He's going to drag up everything from my past – like the book did – only this time it will be in court and, shit, I guess part of the public record and under oath? I don't know how court stuff works."

"Well, don't look at me," McCoy declared, pouring himself another drink before sitting down again. "I got royally screwed by Jocelyn and her ambulance chasers."

"Starfleet has a legal department, right?" Jim asked. "I mean, there has to be something to help me, right?"

"Yeah, the JAG, the Judge Advocate General's office," McCoy replied. "I worked with them after we got back, before we shipped out again, to see if I could get some time with Jo. Didn't do me much good, but then we didn't have a lot of time, either," he shrugged.

"Fuck," Jim leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. "This is going to… Matthew's going to play dirty. I'm so tired of people poking around in my life." He sat there, breathing deeply for a long moment, before sitting back and looking over at his friend. "Do you think I should… should I tell Spock?" he asked hesitantly. "I mean, he's already had to deal with me becoming involved with a crewmember in a rather memorable fashion, and then all the publicity about the book and… Jesus, do I really want to add a custody battle into all that? What the hell kind of captain am I?"

"A good one and everyone knows it," McCoy said immediately. "And I think you should tell the hobgoblin. He knows just about everything apparently, and it's not like you're going to be able to hide this once O'Donnell makes it public, and we both know he will if he can."

"Yeah, you're right," Jim agreed. "It's just embarrassing. I'm supposed to be the one in charge and sometimes he looks at me like…" he shrugged his shoulders. "Never mind. It's my insecurities talking."

McCoy snorted into his drink. "You're admitting to having any?"

Jim smiled wryly. "More and more lately. Now finish your drink while I call in Spock. Last thing I need is for him to raise his goddamn eyebrow at you drinking in the middle of a shift."

McCoy looked at him indignantly as he downed the last of his whiskey. "I wasn't the only one and you offered it to me. It was only polite to take the glass."

"The first one, maybe," Jim smirked, walking over to his desk. "The two refills, not so much."

"Teetotaler," McCoy grouched, grabbing Jim's glass and rinsing them both out.

"Only during working hours, and, you know, when someone's trying to take my daughter away from me," Jim answered with a shrug as he pressed the comm. button. "Mr. Spock? Can you please come to my ready room?"

"Of course, Captain," the first officer's disembodied voice came over the comm.

"Thanks."

McCoy and Jim sat staring at the table, each lost in their own thoughts, as they waited for Spock to arrive. He'd been down in the labs, so it took him more than his usual five seconds.

"You wanted to see me, Captain?" Spock said as the door swept closed behind him. He stood patiently, his hands behind his back and damned if Jim didn't suspect that he was sniffing the air as the Vulcan silently took in everything.

"Yes, Spock," Jim nodded. "Come in, have a seat. Cup of tea?"

"No thank you," Spock replied, sliding into his usual chair to Jim's right and across from McCoy.

"Okay, fine," Jim nodded again nervously. "I've just received a comm. from Earth," he started slowly. "I'm being, or soon will be, sued by Marissa's father for custody of Abby."

Spock's head cocked immediately as he looked over at Jim, the sound of gears whirring and relays connecting an almost audible process as he absorbed Jim's statement. "Indeed? May I ask why?"

"The asshole lawyer who contacted me didn't say too much," Jim stated, "only that he considered me an unfit parent and that under the orders of Colorado Child Protective Services I was to deliver Abby to Starbase 23 by Stardate 2260.76 in order to turn her over to someone who will take her to Earth."

"Captain, I am unfamiliar with the extent of the powers of Colorado Child Protective Services, nor do I know Colorado state law, but Abby is your daughter." He turned his attention to McCoy. "Doctor, on the certificates registering her birth is not the captain's name listed as the biological paternal parent?"

"Of course it is, you…" McCoy began hotly, but at a look from Jim stopped himself. "Who else's name was I gonna put? Santa Claus?"

"I don't think Abby's paternity is in doubt," Jim chimed in before Spock could reply. "That's too obvious and can be proven. The lawyer mentioned that Matthew, Marissa's father, thinks that I am an unfit parent."

"That is illogical," Spock responded. "It is highly unlikely that Mr. O'Donnell could make such a judgment in the few days that he was with you and Abby while on Stratnon."

"Uh, thanks Spock," Jim said in surprise. "I think."

"Not enough time?" McCoy barged in. "Meaning if he had then he would have thought Jim was an unfit parent?"

"I meant no such thing," Spock countered. "Whoever sees the Captain with Abby knows that he is an above satisfactory parent and cares for her and her wellbeing."

"Above satisfactory," McCoy snorted derisively. "He's a great dad."

"Thanks guys, really," Jim said, trying to hold back a smile at McCoy's glaring at Spock and Spock's unperturbed look. He was actually impressed that Spock considered him an 'above satisfactory' parent. That was high praise indeed, from a Vulcan. "I think I can prove that I'm not unfit, so what I really think Matthew will be going for is that Abby would be safer with him on Earth, rather than on the _Enterprise_ with me, though his lawyer did threaten to dig up my past in court if necessary."

"While a starship is not the safest place for a child," Spock said, "it is also not the most dangerous. And Abby is familiar and comfortable with her surroundings. To remove her from here, and you, Captain, could be psychologically damaging to her so shortly after her mother's death."

"Exactly," Jim agreed. "She doesn't even fully understand that her mother is not coming back."

"But," Spock continued. "Is it possible, given that you and Lieutenant O'Donnell were not married, that there might be some power in his case? I do not know. Even if you were to receive a directive ordering you to take Abby to Starbase 23, it is in all likelihood not binding. I cannot imagine that the state of Colorado has any jurisdiction over you or Abby. And logistically, Abby is aboard this ship and we are no where near Starbase 23, nor do we have plans to be near it at any point in the foreseeable future. Have you consulted the Judge Advocate General's staff concerning this?"

"Not yet," Jim shook his head. "I wanted to see what you knew first. I've never needed a lawyer before – at least not since I joined Starfleet. I guess the JAG is the way to go."

"It is the logical first step and its offices are open to all Starfleet members," Spock nodded. "Perhaps…"

Jim looked over at him curiously. It wasn't like Spock to be cautious with an idea or comment. "Perhaps what, Spock?"

"Would an inquiry to Sarek be offensive to you?"

"Not at all," Jim replied instantly, though the question was surprising. Watching Spock he noticed a continued hesitance in his demeanor. "May I ask why?"

"My father acquired a degree in Terran law shortly after his arrival as ambassador from Vulcan so that he might have a clearer understanding of the methodology. He would be able to suggest other sources or routes to take should you wish to avoid using the Judge Advocate General."

"Why the hell wouldn't he use the JAG?" McCoy questioned. "You said they're there for all Starfleet personnel."

"Yes," Spock agreed.

"Then why would he go to someone else?"

Spock didn't say anything, which Jim found extremely curious.

"What are you thinking, Spock?" Jim finally asked. "Tell me."

"Captain," Spock began slowly. "Has it not occurred to you that you have several…enemies…within the Admiralty?"

"Franks and Dekker," Jim stated immediately.

Spock nodded once. "I do not know if you are aware, but Admiral Collins, the Judge Advocate General, is a colleague of Admiral Franks."

"They're admirals," McCoy pointed out sarcastically, "they're all colleagues."

"That is not the relationship to which I am referring," Spock replied. "Admiral Collins and Admiral Franks attended the Academy at the same time, as did Admiral Dekker who graduated two years before them. They served aboard the same ship after graduation and eventually held the positions of Captain and First Officer of the _Persephone_, before Commander Franks became captain of the _Excelsior_. They later worked together on the Betazoid-Terran Project, before Admiral Collins was promoted to the Judge Advocate General ten years ago and Admiral Franks became part of Starfleet's Interplanetary Outreach Group with Admiral Dekker."

"So, you're saying Franks and Dekker have it out for me and this Admiral Collins just might help?"

"It is possible," Spock agreed slowly. "But I do find it illogical that Admirals Franks and Dekker have such an apparent dislike of you."

"Come on, Spock," McCoy guffawed. "You've worked around humans long enough to know that we are a petty, self serving bunch."

"True," Spock agreed quickly, causing Jim to choke back a laugh and McCoy to scowl. "But for men of such high ranking to take such an active interest in persecuting one of their own captains and colleagues… it is illogical."

"It's human," Jim shrugged. "I got the _Enterprise_ over Dekker's son-in-law and we've managed to establish a pretty awesome record of achievement. Marissa made Dekker look like an idiot on Stratnon, and I wasn't at all shy telling them that their petty little grudges against me and that all the hoops they seem determined to make me jump through are the reason that Marissa's gone," Jim state bitterly.

"You blame Admiral Franks for Lieutenant O'Donnell's demise?" Spock asked curiously.

"Of course I do," Jim replied. "And Dekker, I'm sure he's behind it some how, too. You heard me Spock. I said it right to their faces on that comm. when they ordered us away from M'Qtobau."

"I assumed it was something said in the heat of the moment," Spock replied quietly.

"I meant every word of it," Jim said emphatically. "If it wasn't for Franks and Dekker riding my ass for whatever reason, Marissa would be here today. There wouldn't have been a mission to M'Qtobau in order for us to prove that our relationship would not interfere with ship's business. Marissa's assignment was just a part of their dog and pony show to make me prove myself and if I had had any balls I would have told them to take their stupid mission and shove it up their asses. But instead I gave in and Marissa's not coming back and…"

"Jim, stop," McCoy broke in, grabbing Jim's arm and shaking him. "It's not your fault."

Jim seemed to deflate, suddenly, all the pent up anger that had been building as he ranted at Spock, just seeped away. "Yes, it is, Bones," Jim said softly, running his hands through his hair. "But I'm learning to deal with it."

"Jim…"

"No, Bones, let it go," Jim cut him off. "We're not here to talk about Marissa. We're here to figure out what I need to do to fight Matthew. Abby is leaving this ship over my dead body."

The other two men remained silent at the vehemence in Jim's statement.

"I'll contact the JAG," Jim finally said. "It's the logical place to start, but Spock, if you could also contact Sarek, I would appreciate it. Another set of eyes to look things over would be nice. And if something fishy is going on…" Jim shrugged, "I'd rather know about it sooner rather than later. I can pay him…"

"That will not be necessary," Spock interrupted stiffly. "He is not a practitioner of the law, merely a student of it. Any advice he can offer, I am sure he will do so freely."

"Still," Jim replied, looking hesitant.

"It will not be necessary," Spock replied adamantly.

"Give him my thanks, then."

"Of course."

McCoy stood up. "I have to get back down to medical. Dinner, Jim?"

Sitting back in his chair, Jim rotated his neck, trying to work out the tension that had been building all afternoon. "Yeah, sure, Bones. My rooms after shift?"

"Sounds good. See you then," McCoy said as he left.

"Spock, would you and Uhura like to join us?" Jim asked as the Vulcan stood up.

"That would be acceptable, Captain," Spock replied. "I will inform Lieutenant Uhura."

"Good," Jim smiled lightly. "Abby will be thrilled to see you guys."

Spock nodded and moved towards the door, but then paused, his back still to Jim.

"What is it, Spock?" Jim questioned.

Turning, Spock stood stiffly, his arms folded behind his back as he looked directly at Jim.

"I feel that I must apologize, Captain."

"For what?" Jim asked, nonplussed.

"I too felt that Lieutenant O'Donnell's deployment to M'Qtobau was…suspicious and unnecessary, but I saw no harm in…jumping through this particular hoop," he said, borrowing Jim's colloquialism awkwardly. "In retrospect I see I should have acted in a way that would have prevented it. Lieutenant O'Donnell was my subordinate and a fine officer. I did not see to her well being as I should have. I could have spoken up, but I did not. I am sorry for your loss, Jim," he added softly.

"I…" Jim stared, at a loss for words. "I…thank you, Spock," he finally managed to choke out.

Spock nodded once before turning to leave.

_Please review_


	11. Chapter 11

**Complications**

**Chapter 11**

**Stardate 2260.75**

Uhura ran a brush through her hair, counting the strokes in Rigellian absently as she thought about the evening she and Spock had just enjoyed with Kirk, Abby and McCoy. They'd been invited to dinner two days ago, but Abby had come down with a slight fever from cutting one of her molars and was understandably cranky and tired. Kirk hadn't wanted to put her under the stress of having visitors and Uhura couldn't blame him. Abby was usually a pleasant child, but she didn't do teething well, and molars, according to McCoy, could be especially uncomfortable even with modern analgesics.

Tonight Abby had been her usual bright and cheery self, though Kirk looked a bit worse for wear. He'd worked from the office in his quarters for two days so that Abby didn't have to go into daycare. Rand had needed to watch her for a few hours while Jim took care of necessary communications and issues on the bridge, but since they were in between destinations, it had worked out well for everyone.

Uhura had to admit, at least to herself, that Kirk was handling being a single parent and captain better than she would have thought. It was obvious that he was tired more often than not, but he still gave captaining the _Enterprise_ and taking care of Abby everything he had. She couldn't help but wonder how much longer he could manage. Sure, he'd completed a four year program in three years and ended up at the top of his class, but then it had just been him. Now he had Abby and her welfare to think about, as well as the welfare of everyone on the ship; even Jim Kirk had to have limits.

Though he was coping well with single parenting, Uhura could see how badly he missed Marissa, and not just as a co-parent. She'd become his anchor and his safe place to go when things got too much or he just needed to be Jim and not Captain Kirk. It was unfair that she had been taken away so soon in their relationship. It was unfair that she had been taken away at all, but that was life and if anyone knew life wasn't fair, Jim Kirk most certainly did.

"Your thoughts do not look restful, k'diwa," Spock said from the doorway of their bathroom. "I believe you have brushed your hair more than your usual amount. Is something troubling you?"

She shook her head, placing her brush on the bedside table and grabbing her ponytail holder. With deft movements she quickly braided her hair and bound it the end. "I was just thinking about dinner. And Kirk and Abby."

Spock nodded. "I too have been thinking of them."

"You have?" Uhura asked in surprise.

"Jim is in an extremely untenable position," Spock replied. "For one so young he has many burdens, Abby not being the least of them. Yet he has adapted remarkably well. I am…impressed."

Uhura smiled wryly at her lover. "That's Jim Kirk for you. He always lands on his feet."

Spock's eyebrow rose at her turn of phrase, but he nodded. "He is most capable, but I do wonder if everything might eventually be too much for even him. He is showing signs of strain, though nothing yet that would compromise his position."

"It's like everything is hitting him at once," Uhura agreed. "First Marissa's death and now this stupid custody case over Abby." She shook her head angrily. "I don't know what Marissa's father is thinking, but taking Abby away from her father is the absolute worst thing he could do to her. She needs Kirk, and Kirk needs Abby."

"I believe Lieutenant O'Donnell's father is grief stricken," Spock offered.

"That's not surprising at all, but he's not thinking clearly either," Uhura argued. "I know from things that Marissa has said that her father really doesn't like Kirk, even after meeting him at Stratnon. I mean, you saw how cold he was to him even when Kirk was on his best behavior. There is no cause for him to sue for custody. Marissa wouldn't have wanted that. And why now? Why not right after Marissa died?"

"I do not know why he has chosen now. Perhaps his grief was too much earlier."

"His case doesn't stand a chance. Kirk's a good father."

"He is quite satisfactory," Spock agreed, causing Uhura to smile at his usual understatement.

"Kirk seemed to be especially nice to you tonight," Uhura speculated. "I was wondering what caused that. Did you tell him he was a satisfactory father?" she asked with a grin.

"I do not know what you are referring to, thy'ala," Spock responded. "The captain has always been polite to me since the commencement of this mission. I discerned nothing unusual in his demeanor this evening."

"Sure you did," Uhura teased. "He never once teased you or mocked your comments. And he refereed when McCoy tried to argue with you. What's going on?"

"Perhaps he was showing gratitude for some comments I made two days ago, when he first asked us to dine with them before Abby became unwell."

"What did you say?" she asked curiously, sliding into bed and resting her back against the headboard as she pulled the blankets up to her waist.

"I stated that I thought he was an above satisfactory father," Spock explained. "A statement that I believe he understood to be a compliment, as I meant it to be. I also apologized for not speaking up when Lieutenant O'Donnell was deployed to M'Qtobau. I, too, saw the mission as unnecessary and had misgivings about the reasons for it. She was my subordinate and I did not see to her well-being."

Frowning, Uhura looked at him sympathetically. Despite his stoic façade, she knew Spock felt things deeply. "What did Kirk say?"

Spock cocked his head, something he often did when he didn't completely understand the actions of those he was near. "Apparently he was unable to respond and simply thanked me for my expression of sympathy."

Moving towards the bed, Spock sat down next to Uhura and mirrored her position, though he remained above the covers. She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder in companionable silence, taking his sensitive hand in hers and holding it gently.

"Although the captain and Lieutenant O'Donnell were not married," he eventually broke the quiet, "there seemed to be a definite bond between the two, or am I incorrect in my perception?"

"Oh yes, they were bonded," Uhura agreed, "though not in the way that is typical for terrans; meaning marriage. Marissa felt that they did not need a formal acknowledgement of their relationship yet, but she loved him. And Kirk, just the mere fact that he has not looked at another woman since he met her is proof of how he feels. Remember when he was questioned by the Queen of Cloral?"

"I am not likely to forget," Spock responded drily, at least for him.

"She was able to read his thoughts and he admitted that he'd only slept with one woman since becoming captain. That woman was Marissa. For Jim Kirk that's a testament of fidelity if ever I heard of one."

"Indeed?" Spock said, but Uhura heard the question in the word.

She sighed. "You didn't know him at the Academy. The first time I met him he was drunk, he tried to hit on me and then got in a fight. I don't know how he ended up on that shuttle, but first year there were two things everyone knew about Jim Kirk – he was brilliant and he'd sleep with anything that had a pulse."

"I believe that is an overstatement."

"Fine, he'd sleep with anything that had tits and a pulse," Uhura corrected herself and then had to smile at the Spock's raised eyebrows at her choice of words. "He calmed down after the first semester; McCoy finally knocked some sense into him, I guess, but…" she shrugged. "He had a reputation as a charming ladies' man, and a genius to boot."

Spock thought about her words for a moment. "That was before the birth of their child. Did you perceive any change in his behavior towards Lieutenant O'Donnell since Abby's birth?"

"He became even more attached to her," Uhura replied immediately. "A guy like Kirk does not willingly babysit. And taking her down to Belgernon II with that special seat Scotty rigged for Abby on the shuttle just so Marissa could visit that museum was a huge indicator. Just lots of little things – the way he'd watch her, how he'd lean down to listen to her or touch her whenever he thought no one was watching – those types of things made you know he cared."

"He does seem to dote on Abby."

"She's a great kid," Uhura smiled. She loved watching Abby. "But consider Kirk's own past. I bet he sees this baby, his own daughter, as a way to make up for the rotten childhood he had. And I guess in part he might have translated his love for Abby into a love for Marissa, since she gave birth to his child, but it's also more than that. I think he loved Marissa before Abby was even born. Maybe it was because she was the first woman that he ever felt an obligation to, but I think once he got to know her…" she shrugged. "Remember when they had that fight or whatever it was when we stopped at Starbase 17?"

"Yes," Spock nodded thoughtfully. "He proposed to her and she said no."

"He did what?" Uhura looked at him incredulously, her jaw hanging open.

"It is obviously not common knowledge, but yes, he proposed and Lieutenant O'Donnell refused. She asked for some time. I believe he called it 'being in the doghouse.'"

Uhura giggled, covering her mouth as her eyes danced with mirth. "I just bet he did." She shook her head in surprise. "That just proves my point. If he was willing to take that step, even back then, then whether he knew it or not, he totally cared for her."

"Do you think Lieutenant O'Donnell should have said yes?" Spock asked her curiously.

"No," Uhura shook her head after thinking about it. "It was too soon, and knowing Kirk he was probably asking for the wrong reasons."

"But you said…"

"I know," she interrupted him. "I said he cared, but at that point he wasn't asking because he knew that he did, but probably because he was trying to… to protect her or something from all the gossip that was going around about them."

"You are very perceptive, k'diwa," Spock told her admiringly. "I believe that is exactly why he proposed and why Lieutenant O'Donnell turned him down."

"Well, she's a smart woman," Uhura told him. "She'd have to be to catch and keep a man like Kirk. I don't know all the details, but everything Marissa ever said to me about Kirk and their relationship led me believe that she loved him."

"I believe we can safely surmise that he reciprocated the emotion."

"Do you?" Uhura looked over at him curiously. "As a male, did you see more than just signs of affection coming from him?"

Spock considered for a moment, then placed his other hand over hers, sandwiching it between his larger ones. "I can only speculate on his outward displays of affection using my response to you as a template. Our bond negates the need for such displays of our union purely to satisfy the curiosity of others, yet it is always pleasurable to see you and be near you at any time, whether here in privacy, or when we are at our posts. If after a period of separation I become aware of your presence, I am always pleased."

"Me too, ashayam," she replied, as she ran her other hand over his cheek, before pulling his head towards hers for a gentle kiss.

"I believe that the captain had the same responses to Lieutenant O'Donnell as I do to you," he told her. "Yet we do not display the outward signs of affection in a public as they occasionally did. Do you think others might perceive that I do not have feelings for you?" he asked. He seemed disturbed by this thought.

She sighed. "Oh, Spock, some people will think that," she told him honestly. "'What do you see in him?' is something I've heard from the beginning of my relationship with you. Humans, aside from being impolitely curious about others, tend to only believe what they see. You have to prove things to most of them."

Spock nodded thoughtfully. "So you have said before."

"Not to worry, Ashal-veh," she squeezed his hand. "Being with you is worth any annoyances I get from anyone else."

They sat quietly and contemplated the words they had said and the emotions left unsaid, long enough that Uhura began to doze off. She was roused from her stupor, though, when Spock spoke softly.

"Might it be valuable for the captain to know the details of the events on M'Qtobau so that he may find some peace and resolution for his anger and grief?" he asked.

She looked over at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

He paused long enough that Uhura was almost ready to ask again. "I am not comfortable with what we are told happened on M'Qtobau and I do not believe that what is being said about Lieutenant O'Donnell is the truth. I am sure that the captain does not either, and that is partially responsible for his anger. If you and I were to research the media sources, the historical records and other information to do with M'Qtobau and their government and trade alliances, perhaps we might be able to find some information that will provide Jim with some solace."

"That is very kind of you," Uhura told him, smiling softly. "I can work on the broadcasts we recorded from M'Qtobau, and the media feeds, but I don't think you are the only one who has had this idea."

Spock raised an eyebrow in question.

"Kirk has been busy on the information network most nights, and he's hacked into several off-ship data sources over the past couple weeks," she told him.

"Indeed?"

"Indeed."

"And you did not see the need to report any of this activity?"

"To whom?" she asked wryly. "My captain?" She shook her head. "He's not doing anything but researching and looking for information. He's just being creative in some of the ways he's going about it."

"He does not want Starfleet to know," Spock speculated.

"I would imagine so," Uhura agreed. "After all, they sent us to M'Qtobau. They basically ordered Marissa to go down there. And they haven't been the most helpful in trying to find out what actually happened to the away team."

"True," Spock agreed. "Perhaps I should ask..."

There was a chime in their quarters and a communications ensign's voice interrupted them.

"Commander Spock?"

"Yes?"

"You have an incoming transmission from Earth from Ambassador Sarek."

"Thank you. Please patch it through to the data port in my quarters."

"Understood."

"Spock," Uhura spoke as he stood up. "Were you expecting your father to contact you?"

"Yes," Spock told her, grabbing his robe. "I had tried to contact him shortly after Jim told me about the possibility of a custody case over Abby, but he was unavailable."

"But why? I thought Kirk was going through the JAG. Is your father even able to practice law on Earth?"

"He is qualified," Spock told her, "but does not practice. I only thought that he might act as a consultant should Jim need more support."

She looked him over speculatively. "You don't trust the JAG," she stated, folding her arms over her chest."

"I do not trust Admiral Dekker," Spock corrected her. "And Admiral Collins, who is the Judge Advocate General, is a friend of Admiral Franks and Admiral Dekker."

"But…"

"K'diwa," he interrupted. "I must speak with my father."

"Of course," she nodded in apology. "Give him my regards."

"As always," Spock replied as he moved from their bedroom into the living area.

"Hello father," Spock spoke as he accessed his communications channel. "Nyota sends her greetings to you."

"Greetings, my son," Sarek responded, nodding solemnly. "It is pleasing to see you. Please return my greetings to Nyota. I trust all is well on the _Enterprise_."

"Within reason," Spock replied. "We have recently transported a large contingent of researchers to the Ohniaka III Research Station. I had the opportunity to speak with Darval Prevatt and Dr. Ole Nordskog while they were our passengers. Both men sent greetings to you."

"I thank you, my son. However you did not contact me to send greetings from prominent scientists," he said logically.

"No father," Spock immediately agreed. "This is a relatively complicated story, and I will provide details as you request, but I must ask that you do not share anything I relate to you unless you deem it necessary."

"Of course, I will keep your inquiry confidential."

"I wish to enquire of you some matters dealing with Terran law, specifically regarding human infants born out of wedlock," Spock began to explain. "If such an infant were born on board a Federation starship, and if the mother were to have died, would the father retain custody or could members of the mother's family sue for custody of the child through a regional state court?"

Sarek thought about his answer for only a moment before he began to explain. "Each of the former states established laws concerning such matters for the duration of the national government. However, once the entity of The United States of America merged with other countries on the continent into the United States of North America, some of the previous laws were abandoned or modified. Which former state is involved?"

"Colorado."

"I am assuming that it is the grandparents of the infant that are suing for custody of the infant rather than another relative," Sarek stated and Spock immediately nodded. "There is precedent for a grandparent winning custody of an infant from the biological parent, but only if that parent can be shown to be unfit or unable to care for the infant in question. These cases are rare, as the biological parent has rights to their child that only they can rescind. The state of matrimony between the parents is irrelevant."

"That is good to hear," Spock told his father.

"May I ask to whom this case refers?" Sarek asked politely. "I find myself curious that you would ask such a question in regards to a random crewmember, rather than referring them to Starfleet's Judge Advocate General's office. This person must be important to you."

"He is, father," Spock responded promptly. He quickly gave his father a brief summary of the situation regarding Abby, how Marissa had died on M'Qtobau, and how Marissa's father was now suing for custody, stating that Jim Kirk was an unfit parent. Spock even went so far to explain some of his suspicions regarding Admirals Dekker and Franks and their friendship with Admiral Collins of the JAG.

"Would you be able to carry out some research for us?" Spock questioned. "I do not mean to take advantage of your time, but given the general tenor of the directives we have received, we prefer to maintain a careful eye on the lawyer that is assigned to the case by the Judge Advocate General."

Sarek nodded thoughtfully. "That is wise, my son. As much as I decry the evidence of personal vendettas within an august body such as the Federation, it has been known to occur. Thus is the nature of political and military organizations, especially those involving humans." Pausing, Sarek looked almost hesitant before he spoke again.

"Also, you may want to inform our mutual kinsman who is working to reach an agreement with the Federation to establish a starbase on New Vulcan that your captain has come upon some difficulties. He may be an excellent resource for you."

"Thank you, father," Spock nodded, surprised that his father was aware of his older self and that he hadn't thought to contact Selek himself.

"Please extend my condolences to Captain Kirk," Sarek directed him solemnly. "The loss of one's partner is difficult. I will be in contact with you if I find anything of use. Please send me the name of the lawyer assigned to the case."

"Thank you, father," Spock replied. "Spock out."

The screen went blank, but Spock didn't move even though he knew Nyota was waiting for him. He hadn't thought to contact Selek, but perhaps he was the best option for them. The timelines had diverged considerably and while the other Jim Kirk had never had a partner or a child at this point in his life, Selek did know and have access to more information as an Ambassador and trusted member of the Federation. He was a living hero and treated as such by all members of Starfleet and the Federation who knew who he really was.

Perhaps he would have more luck finding out what really happened to Lieutenant O'Donnell than the personnel on the _Enterprise_.

Spock was unsure if he should tell Jim about this avenue of inquiry or not. While he knew that Jim had had contact with Ambassador Selek while on Stratnon, he also knew that the older Vulcan made the Captain uncomfortable due to the repercussions of the hasty mind meld on Delta Vega. Perhaps he would wait and see what Selek could find before disturbing Jim.

He would have to mediate on this.

_Please review_


	12. Chapter 12

_Surprise! I'm posting a day early. I actually have to work tomorrow (stupid holiday weekend, stupid tent sale!) so rather than make you all wait until Sunday evening, I thought I'd go ahead and post now. Hope you don't mind. ;-)_

**Complications**

**Chapter 12**

**Stardate 2260.76**

Jim sighed as he sat down on the couch, glad that this day was finally over. At Bones' and Janine's insistence he'd finally given in and allowed Rand to hold a memorial service for Marissa. His yeoman was fast, or had known that he'd have to give in eventually, because the service was held just two days after she had been given the go ahead shortly after his talking to Janine. Jim had to admire her efficiency.

It had been a nice service. He thought Marissa would have liked it. There had been a nice arrangement of flowers from botany, some music performed by a string quartet, and Crewman O'Reilly had sung a few haunting laments as people seated themselves. All in all, it was a good crowd. Jim was impressed with the number of lives Marissa had touched on the ship.

Maria Roose, Marissa's boss, had led the service. Rand, Uhura, Marie from cartography and Christine Chapel had all spoken individually. There were tears, but there was also laughter as stories, some of which he hadn't ever heard before, were related about Marissa. Jim managed to remain dry-eyed and stoic, though it was difficult considering that images of Marissa that were being displayed behind the women as they spoke.

Janine had sent a collection of images of Marissa, some going back to when she was fifteen and just starting at Harvard. Jim couldn't help but smile at the tiny, awkward, curly haired teenager who grinned shyly down at them. She'd been adorable. Rand and Roose had ransacked his quarters and PADDs for even more images.

Seeing her in the outfit she wore on their double date with Bones and Janine when Abby was six months old had made his chest tighten. At Janine's request, the Maitre'd had taken the picture of the four of them as they left the restaurant. Jim must have just said something, because he was smirking down at Marissa, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, as she smiled fondly up at him. Even he couldn't miss the open affection on both their faces.

Abby had made it easier for him. She wasn't one to really sit still for long, though he had bribed her with a bowl of fruit and some books. As she ate and listened to the speakers she kept up a loudly whispered commentary of the images. "Mama!" she point out to him. "Dada. Unca Bwones. Mama. Who Dat?" she'd ask and Jim would whisper to her and she'd nod.

When her snack was finished, she decided she wanted to investigate the flowers and rather than try to make her sit still – not a natural occurrence at all – he let her down from his lap. Those in the front row watched her as they listened to the memorial, and Jim heard more than several smothered laughs and chuckles as Abby looked over the flowers. She was particularly taken by the white baby roses that were in the arrangement. After gently petting one for a moment, she decided to give it a tug and the look on her face when it sprang free caused McCoy, who was sitting next to Jim, to snicker.

Looking between the arrangement, the flower in her hand, and her father, Abby hesitated, waiting to see if she was in trouble. When Jim did nothing but shake his head wryly, she smiled at him and gave him the rose. From then on she continued to denude the arrangement, handing out flowers to those she knew sitting in the front rows. Each person smiled and thanked her softly for their flower as she handed one to them. When Uhura slipped her flower behind her ear, Abby gave a delighted giggle and then decided that each female had to wear their flower similarly.

In the end, Jim, Bones, Spock, Nyota, Sulu, Scotty, Chekov, Roose, Rand, Chapel, Daugherty and a handful of others had flowers. Chekov actually had several, including one behind his ear, but Jim wasn't jealous because when she'd pulled out everything that she could reach, it was to his lap that she returned, contentedly leaning back against his chest.

The small reception afterward in Ten Forward had been a lesson in endurance as Jim shook hands and smiled and thanked everyone who came up and spoke with him about Marissa. He'd never been to a memorial service before where he was the chief mourner and it was difficult. He liked hearing about how Marissa had touched other lives, but it was difficult to hear how much she would be missed – he knew that already – and to see the pity and sorrow in all their eyes as they looked at him and Abby. Still, it had to be done and he could tell that it was a relief for them to say their good byes and offer their condolences.

Thankfully Jim was never left alone at the reception with either Bones or Nyota, or sometimes Spock, standing with him at all times as he smiled and shook hands. Abby enjoyed being carted around by Chekov, or conversely, dragging Chekov around the room, so Jim didn't have to worry about her. There were plenty of eyes to make sure that she was taken care of.

Still, it was a relief when Chekov came up to him with a sleepy looking Abby in his arms, her small head resting on his shoulder as one of her hands tugged at his collar.

"Keptin, I believe kotik is tired," Chekov told him. "I could take her to your quarters, but perhaps you would like…"

"Thank you, Chekov," Jim said with a sigh of relief. Abby willingly went into his arms, mirroring her position on Chekov, with her head on his shoulder and fingers holding his collar. "I'll take her. I think I'm ready to go. Thank you for watching her."

"It was my pleasure," Chekov smiled. "Good night, Kotik," he patted Abby's back. "Sleep well."

"Ni ni, Pasha," Abby murmured, reaching a hand out, which Chekov squeezed gently before letting go.

Chekov paused for a moment, looking at Jim like he wanted to say something and Jim braced himself. He could see the emotions swimming in the young man's eyes. Instead, Chekov simply nodded, bowing slightly while saying something in Russian, before turning and making his way across the room.

"Let's go find Miss Janice, munchkin and then we can go to bed," Jim said quietly, dropping a kiss on Abby's head. "You were a very good girl today."

It took another ten minutes to track down Rand, say thank you, and then to find McCoy, Spock and Uhura and tell them he was leaving. By the time that was done Abby was asleep in his arms. She barely woke up when he changed her into her pajamas and didn't even demand a story or song. So now he was sitting on his couch staring at the book in his lap, trying to work up the courage to open it and do what he knew he should.

The book had been Marissa's idea shortly after she had told him about her pregnancy and they had started meeting regularly for dinner. His first few months on board as a captain had been pretty boring. He'd been learning the ropes and Starfleet had been sending them on what were basically milk runs – meet and greets and flag waving. No one was in danger and no was injured; unless you counted Lieutenant Mellior nearly choking on an hors d'ouevres when a native got a little overly familiar with the man's bottom at an official function.

Then there had been an explosion in engineering and two people, Ensign Gwyneth Botha and Crewmember Henrique Gonzales, had died instantly and a good half dozen others were sent to Medical with various radiation burns and broken bones. It had been the first loss of life under his watch on the ship since the _Narada_ incident and it had happened when no one had expected it in the middle of beta shift while they were orbiting another boring, but important, planet.

Jim had been proud of the way his crew reacted to the crisis, but in the end two lives had been lost and he had to face the fact that he would eventually lose more – a lot more – and there was only so much he could do to prevent it. Pike had tried to prepare him for this, but it was all just words until you were composing vidcomms to the bereaved families of the dead.

He'd had a moment of silence over the ship and spoken a few words in memory of them at the memorials held by their friends and colleagues, but deep down he felt that it wasn't enough. They had been members of his crew and his responsibility. He didn't want their names and faces to just fade away in his memory, so that is when Marissa had suggested the book.

It was actually a blank journal with about 200 pages, and it scared him that someday it might actually be filled. Nana Rose had given it to her to keep a record of her thoughts and experiences, but Marissa just wasn't the type, even if she was a historian. It was brown leather, with a clasp lock, and pages of heavy, cream colored paper; a stately looking thing, perfect for what she suggested.

Going to his computer, Marissa had pulled up the records of Botha and Gonzales and printed out their pictures and pertinent information. Cutting out the pictures, she had pasted Botha's picture on the first page of the journal and then written her full name, rank, and birth and death dates. Then she handed the old fashioned pen to him.

"Now fill in the rest," she'd told him.

He'd looked at her in confusion. "What?"

"Fill in the rest," she'd repeated patiently.

"The rest of what?"

"The rest of her story," she'd replied patiently. "Whatever you know; so you don't forget her."

"But I barely knew her," Jim countered nervously. "She was an engineer under Scotty… I only dealt with her a couple times. I helped her fix an electrical panel once and she told me that captains should really stay on the bridge."

Marissa smiled softly. "Then write that down. Write down what you know about her, what you've heard about her. Don't let her be forgotten even if she was just an engineer under Scotty."

"She wasn't just an engineer, she was a member of my crew," Jim found himself saying.

"Exactly," Marissa had smiled at him as if he had answered a question she hadn't yet asked. "So write it down." Patting his hand she had stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow for dinner, right?"

Jim nodded slowly, his eyes still on the picture of Gwyneth Botha pasted on the journal page. "Yeah. Of course. I'll meet you in the library?"

"Sounds good," Marissa had told him. "Good night, Jim."

"Night, Marissa," he'd responded absently, still staring at the book, but she was already gone.

It had been slow and painful at first, but he'd eventually managed to partially fill in the page. As time went on and they lost more crewmembers Jim found himself seeking out and listening to the friends and coworkers of the lost crewmembers. It helped him to fill out the book with more information and it helped to keep the memory of them alive for him. No man left behind, no man forgotten.

Now he paged through the book, more filled than he would wish not even halfway through their mission; thirty-eight crewmembers lost to accidents and hostile actions. Now he was supposed to add number thirty-nine, Marissa.

He looked briefly at the entries for the four security staff who were also lost on M'Qtobau with Marissa and couldn't help but smile sadly at the length of his entry for Lieutenant Jason Roth. He'd had a lot to say about Cupcake. Technically Roth was one of only three people in Starfleet, aside from Pike, who knew Jim before he had even joined the Academy. The other three buffoons from that night had washed out and McCoy and Uhura were on the _Enterprise_ with him now.

Slowly turning the page, Jim stared at the blank paper before him. He'd already printed out Marissa's service picture. With an unsteady hand he glued it into place, smoothing it out and caressing her face, following the curve of her cheek as she looked solemnly up at him.

It felt wrong. He didn't know if it was the stiffly posed, standard officer identification image or if it was because any image of her was in the book at all, but it just didn't feel right. Marissa was always smiling, or grinning or laughing. Seeing her staring solemnly up at him… this wasn't how he remembered her.

He thought about changing the picture to something more informal, but decided against it. That would make it too real; to see the Marissa he knew smiling up at him from this book of the dead. At least this solemn Marissa was one he recognized but didn't necessarily see on a daily basis.

With a shaky hand he wrote her name: **Marissa Rose O'Donnell**, **Lieutenant, PhD**, and if the O was a bit square where he had started to write a K, no one would know but him. Those five words seemed to take too much energy and he almost stopped, but he pushed on.

**Born August 8, 2235; Bailey, Colorado, Earth. **

**Died August 29, 2260; Malloriba, M'Qtobau**.

**Stardate 2235.63 – 2260.66**

Then he stopped. What else could he say? With all the others he had written their Academy dates and focuses, as well as what they did on the _Enterprise_ and if they served on any other ship or post. Then he would put down his memories of their personality and the quirks that he and their friends knew; along with any anecdotes that he'd come across. It had always been a relief and usually, once he got started he would barrel through until the end, but not this time.

This time the blank page mocked him. What could he really say about Marissa? How could he encompass everything that she was to him onto one blank page? He was afraid that once he got started he wouldn't be able to stop and he'd fill the book up. But he was also afraid that he wouldn't be able to even start, so once again he put the pen to paper and wrote in her years at the Academy, her doctorate in Xenohistory and her award with Aja. The facts seemed cold and did nothing to really remember her. They were just facts that anyone could look up. What could he _say_?

Slowly he began to write again.

**Friend**.

**Historian.**

Both were true, but didn't quite encapsulate what Marissa was.

**Mother**.

Probably the most important. Marissa's absence was a gaping hole in both Abby's and Jim's lives. How such a loss would affect Abby only time would tell, but Jim would do his best to see that their daughter had the best life possible and knew that her mother had loved her dearly.

But yet, those three words, while true, weren't quite right. They were how other people saw Marissa, but how did he see her?

Almost without conscious thought, his hand began to write again.

**Partner**.

That was the word she had used. And it seemed to fit, but…

**Everything**.

Staring at the word he had just written, the pen dropped from his numb fingers. That was the word. That was what Marissa was to him. She was everything and now she was gone. Even though it had been just over a month, Jim still wasn't sure how he was going to continue. He'd been working on sheer determination and stubbornness. The crew needed him to be the best he could be and Abby needed her father, but he could feel the façade crumbling. Was this how his mother felt? Empty and lost; without an anchor?

Jim shook his head and closed the book. He was not going to be like his mother. He was not going to let his grief cripple him and he was not going to abandon his daughter. He owed Marissa and Abby that much.

Before he could get too angry – or maudlin – his door chimed.

"Enter," he told the computer, leaning back and letting his head rest on the back of the couch, his face towards the ceiling as he tried to collect his thoughts. He'd expected Bones a while ago and was glad for the interruption. Today had been a lot harder than he'd expected and he just wanted to have a couple of drinks in the company of his friend and then forget all about it.

"Captain," a feminine voice called from the doorway.

"Ah," Jim sat up quickly, staring over at the woman now standing in his living area. "Ensign," he managed to say, hoping he'd masked his confusion. "What can I do for you?" He quickly stood up, not wanting to be seen in a vulnerable position, even if sitting on a couch wasn't exactly weak.

She smiled slightly and walked over to him. She wasn't dressed in uniform, but instead wore a tight fitting pair of black pants, a pink shirt that had a rather plunging neckline and a pair of heels that put her eye to eye with him.

"I wanted to talk with you, Captain," she said. "Can I sit?"

"Sure," Jim replied, waving to the single chair next to the couch. He remembered Ensign Tenial from his only drunken one night stand in his final year at Starfleet after he had failed the Kobyashi Maru the first time. He probably wouldn't have remembered her at all, aside from being a member of his crew, if that had been their only interaction, he'd been that drunk, but she'd been persistent in her desire for follow up performances and she didn't like taking no for an answer.

On the _Enterprise_ he did his best to avoid her, not that that was hard. He had very little to do with the members of the Cartography department individually, though he had run into her at various ship functions. After he'd found out she'd been the one in charge of the betting pool about when he would leave Marissa, Jim had given her an even wider berth. He didn't want to accidentally act on his feelings and do something not befitting his rank and position – like demote her and make her work in the kitchens.

Instead of sitting in the seat he had offered, she moved around him and sat on the middle section of the couch. Jim had a choice; he could move over to the chair next to the couch in order to have some space, or he could sit back down. Moving was the best idea, but it would make it obvious that he wasn't comfortable near her. By staying he showed that she didn't affect him; so he stayed. Sitting, he wedged his back into the corner of the couch, bringing one leg up on the couch so that he could face her and also have a barrier.

"What did you want to talk about," Jim finally asked, when Tenial remained silently watching him. He imagined she thought that she looked demure and nervous, but he could easily recognize the predatory look in her eyes as she glanced up at him through her eyelashes.

"I just…" she paused, letting her voice tremble slightly, which Jim absently thought was a nice addition to the wringing of her hands in her lap. "Today was so difficult. For us, the crew. And for you and little Abby. It's hard to let someone go. I know, I lost… I lost a very… close… friend after the Narada."

"We all did," Jim stated bluntly.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes and he caught a brief flash of irritation.

"Of course we did," she replied, her voice once again soft. "But my friend… he and I were very close; like you and Marissa."

I doubt that, was the first thought that crossed his mind, even as he bristled at her using Marissa's name. Instead he made a noncommittal sound low in his throat.

"He was on the _Hood_."

She seemed to be waiting for him to say something, so he nodded briefly. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," she replied. "It was so hard to continue, knowing that he would… he would never…" she sniffed and Jim twisted to grab a tissue from the side table. He handed it to her and watched as she delicately dabbed at her eyes. "After his memorial – the one his parent's held, not the official Starfleet one held for everyone on the _Hood_ – I was just lost. Today at Marissa's service," and again Jim's gut clenched at her daring to say Marissa's name, "I could see how much pain you were in. Everyone could. And I wanted to tell you that I understand," she moved herself a bit closer, "I just had to come talk to you." She placed her hand on his knee, squeezing lightly. "We have a… history together and I want to help you."

Trying not to look down at her hand like it was some poisonous insect, Jim did his best to school his features into a mask of politeness. "I thank you for your concern, Ensign," he told her, stressing her rank. He was not letting this be anything more than a professional conversation. "But I believe the only thing that will help me is time, or at least that is what everyone tells me. Today was difficult, but I will manage. I am managing. I have my job and Abby to focus on. I appreciate your…offer, but I'm fine."

"But you're not," Tenial leaned a little closer, her hand sliding further up his thigh. "Everyone can see how upset you are. You have to let her go, Jim. She's dead and you have to move on."

Jim bristled at her words, but still managed to remain polite, if stiff. "I realize she is gone. And I am moving on. I don't have a choice. I'm sorry if my…grief… has affected my performance as captain. I will do my best to rectify that – thank you for bringing that to my attention."

Shaking her head, Tenial sighed. "I'm not talking about you as a captain, Jim. No one has any complaints about that."

"Then what exactly are you talking about, Ensign?" he asked, his voice a bit harder than before. She hesitated for a moment, but then pushed on.

"I'm talking about you as a man, Jim," she said, her hand now on his inner thigh. "You have needs too. Physical needs. Needs that can't be subsumed by running for miles around the track or lifting weights or sparring with Lieutenant Sulu. Needs that I can help you meet," she finished on a whisper, looking over at him coyly.

Jim froze for a moment, totally undone by her audacity. He had been pretty sure that this proposition was what she was leading up to since she entered his quarters, but he was still surprised that she had the guts to actually say it.

She seemed to take his silence as permission and slid closer to him, her other hand coming up to cup his cheek. "Jim, I know what you like. I know what you need and I'm willing…"

Grabbing her hand, Jim glared at her. "You don't know anything," Jim told her harshly, his face now flushing with anger. "And I don't know where you get off propositioning your commanding officer. It's unwanted and highly unprofessional."

Tenial reared back, shocked at his words. "We have a history…"

"We have one drunken night over two years ago while we were cadets," Jim corrected her baldly. "Any willing female would have done that night, you were nothing special. I didn't even remember who you were until you started pestering me for more."

Now her jaw dropped as she stared at him agape, her cheeks beginning to flush.

"I'm sorry if that offends you," Jim told her, "but it is what is it is. I was upset and drunk and… and I just wanted to fuck someone. You happened to be willing. It was nothing more than that. I made no promises and I asked nothing of you."

"Except to let you fuck me," she hissed.

"And you were willing," Jim countered. "I told you afterwards when you cornered me on campus that I wasn't interested in anything more from you and you've got some nerve thinking I'd want anything from you now. You're a member of my crew."

Laughing humorlessly, Tenial crossed her arms and glared. "A member of your crew," she repeated. "So you can fuck the librarian, but not anyone else."

"Leave Marissa out of this," Jim bit out. "I don't even want to hear you say her name again."

"What did she have that was so special?" Tenial asked petulantly, but in genuine curiosity. "She was just a mousy librarian."

"She had a heart," Jim told her vindictively. Standing abruptly he moved away from the couch.

Tenial's eyes narrowed. "She had you by the balls. She got knocked up and she used…"

"Ensign, I advise you not to say another word," Jim cut her off, his voice cool, but his eyes flashing angrily. "Need I remind you that you just propositioned your commanding officer? That is behavior unbecoming an officer on this ship."

"But she…"

"Marissa is of no concern of yours," Jim told her. "As you and everyone else have pointed out, she's gone. I will have to continue my life without her, but that doesn't mean I'm going to go to bed with the next warm body to offer themselves. If there's one thing Marissa taught me it's that sex is meaningless if there isn't any feeling behind it, and while I might have feelings regarding you, they are nowhere near the romantic kind."

"You let me in," Tenial finally responded weakly.

"I thought you were Dr. McCoy," Jim replied.

"You offered me a seat."

"As I would any other crewmember who came to talk to me," Jim pointed out.

She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, the door chimed. Jim didn't even look away from her when he barked, "Enter!"

"Sorry, I'm late Jim…" McCoy began as he walked in, but then trailed off as he realized that Jim had company. "Am I interrupting?" he asked, looking between the flushed face of the woman on the couch and his clenched jawed, glaring friend.

"Not at all," Jim replied, still staring at the woman. "Ensign Tenial was just leaving, weren't you, Ensign?"

"Yes, Captain," she said almost meekly, as she stood up and made her way to the door, not looking at either man.

"What the hell was that all about?" McCoy demanded once the door closed behind her.

Jim sighed heavily and went over to the sideboard to pour himself a drink. "That was my past coming back to bite me in the ass," Jim said, motioning with the bottle to ask if McCoy wanted anything.

"Sure," McCoy nodded, coming over to take the drink. "Seriously, what was she doing here? She's from…botany?"

"Cartography," Jim corrected, sipping his drink and looking over at McCoy wryly. "And she was here to offer to see to my needs." McCoy gave him a blank look. "As a man," Jim continued pointedly.

"As a…" Comprehension came suddenly and McCoy looked incredulous. "She came here to proposition you?"

"Yep," Jim nodded, finishing his drink and pouring another before moving to sit heavily on the couch.

"What the hell?" McCoy muttered, sitting on the chair that Jim had originally offered to Tenial.

"That's what I thought too," Jim said wryly.

"Why would she think…? You said it was your past biting you on the ass," McCoy said thoughtfully. "Did you and she…"

Jim nodded, his lips pressed in a firm line. "Once, after I failed the Kobyashi Maru the first time. I was so drunk I didn't even remember who I had been with until she found me and wanted to make something more of it."

"Which you didn't," McCoy finished for him, nodding thoughtfully.

"Yes," Jim agreed, but then looked over at his friend curiously. "How did you know that?"

"Well, uh," McCoy flushed uncomfortably. "On Cloral you said… You said our third year you had two regular friends and one one-night stand. I just figured… Sorry," he said sheepishly as Jim just stared.

Jim shook his head. "It's okay. I just forgot that you were listening that day."

"I'm sorry, Jim," McCoy repeated.

"Not your fault," Jim shook his head again, taking another sip of his drink. "Jesus," he set his head against the back of the couch. "What an awful end to a terrible day."

McCoy nodded sympathetically. "What are you going to do?"

"About what?" Jim asked, lolling his head in order to look over at McCoy.

"About the ensign."

Jim shrugged and turned his face back towards the ceiling. "Nothing. She's got enough of a record and I really don't want a shipboard inquiry. If she keeps her head down and goes about her business, I'm willing to let this go. Besides," he trailed off.

"Besides what?" McCoy prodded when Jim didn't continue.

Jim closed his eyes. "It's been almost a year, but she was the one who ran that pool about when I was going to leave Marissa for someone else. I had Spock shut it down and I've done my best to just ignore it – and her, but…" he trailed off again, shrugging.

"But if you press charges on this, then she could counter that it's punishment for a pool that you didn't agree with," McCoy finished for him.

"Unlikely, but possible," Jim agreed. "And I just don't want to deal with this shit right now."

They sat in companionable silence for awhile, each thinking their own thoughts. Jim was still trying to compartmentalize his anger and shock at Tenial's brash proposal. Where had she even gotten the idea that he would be interested in anything from her – or anyone else for that matter? His life since Marissa had gone down to M'Qtobau had been his job and Abby, with occasional forays to Ten Forward to be social and accessible to his crew. He'd never once given the impression that he was interested in any form of intimate companionship.

Honestly, he'd barely even jerked off, he'd been so uninterested in sex. The few times that he had taken himself in hand, so to speak, had been perfunctory and not at all satisfactory; more in response to his body's needs than anything else. The idea of being intimate – touching and kissing and making love to – another person had never even entered his mind. He just wasn't ready. He'd had something special with Marissa. Sure, in the past he'd turned to any warm body in order to fulfill his need for human contact and sexual release, but now, he just couldn't. He knew what it was like to need and want and love one person, and be needed and wanted and loved in return. He wasn't going to cheapen that with a few minutes of physical pleasure with someone he really didn't have any feelings for. It wasn't fair to himself or to Marissa.

"What's that?" McCoy interrupted his thoughts, pointing at the book now resting on the coffee table. "I've never seen it before."

Jim sat up, reached for the book and then handed it to his friend. "It's what I was working on before Ensign Tenial showed up," Jim told him. He cleared his throat as McCoy put down his drink and went to open it. "It was Marissa's idea. So I didn't forget."

He watched as McCoy slowly opened the book, his eyes widening as he saw what was on the pages. "Botha and Gonzales."

"The first crewmembers we lost," Jim said softly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "I knew they wouldn't be the last. And I didn't want to forget them, so… Marissa suggested the book. As a way to remember them."

"That's," McCoy shook his head and smiled slightly as he turned the pages. "That's pretty fucking brilliant," he said.

"Yeah, it is," Jim agreed. "And it really helps. I'm able to remember them and… and say good-bye, I guess." Jim sighed deeply, causing McCoy to look over at him in concern. "I was trying to finish the last entry, but I'd given up right before Tenial chimed. I thought she was you."

"May I?" McCoy asked, looking at Jim and then down at the book, asking permission to see what he had been working on.

Jim shrugged, taking sip of his drink and not meeting his eyes. "Go ahead."

Carefully, McCoy turned to the last entry and his breath caught as he stared down at Marissa's picture and the few words Jim had written.

"I couldn't finish it," Jim told him. "I was afraid once I got started I'd never be able to stop and I…" he shook his head and sat back again, closing his eyes as if he was in pain. "If she's in the book, she's really gone and I just couldn't…"

"I understand, Jim," McCoy told him gently. "And I am so damn sorry. After all you've been through; you shouldn't have to bear this too.

Jim let out a sound that was half laugh, half whimper. "Life's not fair. I learned that a long time ago. But at least I have Abby. And I have my memories, even if they hurt to think about now."

"You do have that," McCoy agreed. "And Abby is pretty damn special."

"She is," Jim nodded. "I don't know what I would do without her; having her to focus on. She's the only bright spot in my day. Sometimes I don't think I can keep going and then she smiles at me or gives me a hug or is just there… and it makes everything worth it. I don't understand my mother, Bones. She just gave up. We, Sam and I, we were never enough for her and she just…" he trailed off sadly.

He sat back, resting his head on the back of the couch again. Time passed and McCoy didn't say anything, for which Jim was thankful. He didn't want empty words, though he knew McCoy would only be trying to console him. He just needed his friend's companionship right now. He needed to know he wasn't as alone as he felt.

The idea that he would repeat the anguished life his mother had led was an abomination to him. Being the product of her avoidance and grief, he knew he could never do that to Abby. And having spent his entire childhood with the misfits and pity cases she'd attracted because of her continuous grief, he realized he could not repeat her mistakes, either.

"I will not make the same mistakes she made," Jim vowed quietly. "Abby is the most important thing in my life and I will not let anyone or anything, including my own grief, come between us."

"Of course not, Jim," McCoy agreed automatically. "You're stronger than that."

"I hope so, Bones," Jim replied. "I hope so."

Later, after McCoy had left and Jim had placed the book onto its shelf in his office, he went quietly into Abby's room, gently pulling her blanket up over her shoulders from where it was tangled at her feet again.

Standing over her crib, Jim quietly made a promise to his sleeping daughter, "Abby, I will do everything I can to give you a happy, normal life. I will encourage you and protect you, and help you to become the same sort of woman your mother was- a strong, smart, capable, loving woman. She will always be the love of my life. And you will always know that you are loved."

Not too much later, Jim went to sleep and dreamt about Marissa. She smiled as she reached for him, her lips forming words he couldn't understand. He woke feeling rested, but slightly unsettled, like Marissa had been trying to tell him something, he just didn't know what.

_Please review – as always. ;-)_

_Author's note #1 – Abby's actions during the memorial are based on my almost 2 year old niece at my mother-in-law's funeral this past January. (Remember all those 'family' delays for Consequences and the late start for Complications? Well, we were dealing with her battle with cancer. At least she's at peace now.) At the funeral Evie decided that she'd had enough snack and didn't want to play with her toys, so she began to investigate the alter decorations, which in this case happened to be quilts. Seats were saved for family members and special friends with fat quarters of fabric and Evie decided that she had to hang that fabric like the quilts. So instead of giving each person a flower like Abby, she'd take the fabric and meticulously hang it next to her grandmother's quilts that were on display. It's probably what kept me from crying like a baby and I know Elaine, my mother-in-law, would have loved it._

_Author's note #2 – There are so many amazing fanfic writers out there that have amazed, and awed and influenced me. Sometimes it's obvious – like Talesfromthespockside's _Hero_ that gave me the genesis of Marissa and all that she could be. Sometimes it might be a line or a thought from another story that I don't even realize I'm borrowing until weeks or months later. I do want to try to give credit where credit it due, so, the idea for the Memorial Book is from Mijan's story _Redshirt_. She writes amazing short stories about Jim Kirk that just…they are so spot on and then the rip your heart out, in a good way. And her longer Kirk and McCoy stories that take place at the Academy are even better. It's like she knows them. You read it and you know that this is what happened to them before the movie to make them such close friends. I thought her idea of a memory book of the dead was a lovely idea – Jim wouldn't want to forget anyone – so I asked if I could borrow it and she graciously let me. Seriously folks, if you haven't read her stuff, go!_

_And lastly, thanks to Royalpinkdogs – there is a lot of her in this chapter!_


	13. Chapter 13

**Complications**

**Chapter 13**

**Stardate 2260.76**

"I'd like to thank you all for coming here," Jim said to the assembled crewmembers in his quarters. He'd asked them all to come to there after the usual dinner time for alpha shift. Abby was beside herself having all her friends – family, really – in their quarters. She was currently ensconced in Chekov's lap, but she had already made the rounds welcoming everyone to her domain by showing them her favorite toys and guys. Jim had smartly hidden her piano for the evening. She seemed a hyper ball of energy, so he was relieved when she had finally settled with Chekov and began chattering with him.

"I know this may seem strange, but bear with me," he continued. "First of all, I'd like to thank all of you for all that you've done for Abby and myself – and Marissa, since Abby was born and well, more recently," he finished uncomfortably. "You've become our family and I… It's not something that I'm used to, but I want you to know…" he fumbled for words as he looked out at all the faces of the people who had come to mean so much to him. "I…"

"We understand, Jim," McCoy interrupted him with a brusque nod. He was always grumpier when the emotions were running high.

"We do, Captain," Janice chimed in with a reassuring smile and everyone else began smiling and nodding in agreement. Murmurs of "yes, captain," and "of course we understand," reaching Jim.

"Well, thanks," Jim grinned sheepishly in return. "I should probably get to why I called you all here."

"That'd be appreciated," McCoy said wryly, causing everyone to chuckle.

"Shut up, Bones," Jim responded good-naturedly. "Like I was saying, why I asked you here…" he paused and ran a hand through his hair. "I've asked a lot of you over the past couple months, more than I really have a right to."

"Now just hold on there, Captain," Maria Roose interrupted him. "You never had to ask us anything. We all," she looked around at her fellow crewmembers who were nodding, "didn't need to be asked. We volunteered willingly. Like you said, we're family and we take care of our own."

Jim looked at them speechlessly. "I…well, I thank you, Maria. And everyone," he looked out over the small crowd. "I appreciate all that you do and have done for us. Especially since…" he once again trailed off. "Well, you know," he shrugged. "But I do have something to ask of you now," he told them. "It shouldn't take long and it's completely voluntary, but I need it to be done within the next few days."

"Whatever it is, Captain," Sulu spoke up, "I'm sure it won't be a problem. What do you want us to do?"

Jim took a deep breath, glancing over at McCoy who gave him an encouraging nod. "I need each of you, if you are comfortable doing it, to record a statement regarding your honest opinion of my parenting ability and whether you think that Abby should remain on the _Enterprise_, or if she should live elsewhere, either because it's not safe for her here or she's a distraction to the smooth running of this ship, or…you think I'm an unfit parent," he finished in a rush.

Looking around he could see all the shocked and confused faces staring up at him, mouths agape as they deciphered his final words. Only Uhura and McCoy, along with Spock who was currently on the bridge, knew what was going on.

McCoy looked at him smugly, arms crossed over his chest, as the indignation of his crewmembers began to make it known.

"What the blazes are you talkin' about, laddie," Scotty finally spoke up. "Who says you're unfit or that our lady is not safe for the wee lassie?" he demanded huffily, crossing his arms and glaring balefully, as if daring Jim to tell him different.

There were lots of other angry mumblings as everyone looked at each other in astonishment.

"Marissa's father wants custody of Abby," Jim explained.

"Dat me!" Abby exclaimed happily, causing everyone to laugh and even Jim managed to smile.

"That's right, baby girl," he agreed before looking over all the faces staring at him. "I was contacted last week and told that someone," he looked pointedly over at Abby, "should be dropped off at a starbase to be transported to Earth and into her grandfather's custody. I of course refused and the lawyer told me that Mr. O'Donnell was ready and willing to sue for custody on the grounds that I am an unfit parent and the _Enterprise_ is not a safe environment."

"No place is entirely safe," Lieutenant Daugherty commented.

"I agree," Jim said, "and while I admit that the _Enterprise_ is an unusual place to raise a child, it's all she's known. Her family is here with all of you, not back on Earth in Colorado."

"Here! Here!" Scotty exclaimed.

"What are you doing about this nonsense," Roose demanded.

"I've contacted the JAG and been assigned a lawyer, Hadden Fischer, and his advice is to collect statements from those of you closest to me and Abby. There are some questions, but you can say anything you want. Obviously, I want Abby to stay here, but I don't want that to influence you in any way," he told them honestly. "Just so you know, during this initial step I will only be able to see what you have submitted if you give me permission and even then I…I probably won't read them. I don't want you to worry about what I think."

"It wouldn't matter to me, Captain," Lieutenant Daugherty said. "You're a good dad and it's obvious that Abby is a happy, well adjusted child. And she loves you."

"Thank you, Joell," Jim replied, trying not to blush at her praise. "Anyway, these statements are all between you and my lawyer. Should this go before an actual judge, then your statements will become part of the case and I guess part of the public record, unless I can get the case sealed." He looked out at them, meeting everyone's eyes, if only for a second. "Think about it. I'm asking, but in no way ordering you to do this. If you choose not to do this there are no hard feelings and there will be no repercussions from me or anyone else," he looked over at McCoy who had spoken passionately about the spinelessness of anyone on the crew who would refuse to help when Jim had approached him earlier with Fischer's instructions.

"Any questions?" Jim asked.

Chekov raised his hand.

"Yes, Chekov?"

"How do we do dis?"

"Lieutenant Uhura has offered to coordinate setting up recording times or you can do it yourself through your own PADD. My lawyer has prepared some basic questions that he would like you to answer. Anything you would like to add after that is up to you, or not."

He turned to look at his communications officer who was sitting at the dining table. "Uhura, will send all of that to…"

"Already done, Captain," Uhura interrupted him.

Jim smiled. "Thanks, Lieutenant."

"After you answer the questions you can say anything you want," Jim continued to explain. "When you are done you can forward it to me or Uhura. My lawyer is expecting a data packet no later than Friday. Sorry about that, but Marissa's father's lawyers moved faster than I was expecting and we're playing catch up.

"Have they done anything else, Captain?" Hannity asked.

Rand gave an indignant snort, causing everyone to look over at her in curiosity and then back at Jim expectantly.

"Uh, yeah," Jim responded slowly. "I'm to have all of Marissa's things itemized and packaged to be sent back to her father as soon as we reach a Federation planet or starbase."

"The bastard even sent a list," Janice told everyone angrily.

"Janice," Jim warned.

"It's not fair, Captain," she complained, shrugging off Chapel's comforting hand. "Some of those things belong to you too, or at least Abby. He's trying to take every reminder you have of her. It's just not right."

"Seeing as he thinks he's going to get custody, I don't think he gave it much thought," Jim told her honestly. "We weren't married, Janice. I don't have any rights to things she owned or bought with her own money.

"But…"

"Janice, please; we've discussed this," Jim interrupted her. "Let it go." He looked around at all the sympathetic faces and shook his head slowly. "It's fine. I have Abby and that's all I need. Now, are there any more questions?

No one said anything.

"All right then, I think it's time for someone to get ready for bed," he looked over at Abby who was resting against Chekov, her eyes at half mast as she babbled quietly to Selhat. "Thank you for coming. Whether you make a statement or not," Jim told them all sincerely, "I couldn't do this without your support and friendship."

Scotty let the exodus, shaking Jim's hand firmly and clapping him on the shoulder. "You'll have my statement before the wee one is dreaming, Capt'n," he told Jim. "Bloody shame you have to go through this after everything else."

"Thanks, Scotty. I appreciate it."

He received hugs and pats from Maria Roose, Hannity, Rand, Chapel, and Marie and Shani from cartography. Sulu gave him an encouraging nod as he watched Chekov hand over a reluctant Abby.

"It will all work out, Captain," he told Jim. "They'd be crazy to take Abby from you."

"It's true," Chekov nodded. "Kotik belongs here with us. You haf our support, Keptin."

"Thanks guys," Jim smiled at them genuinely. "I'll see you in the morning." He looked down at Abby. "Say bye to Pasha and Sulu, Abby girl," he coached.

She immediately pressed a kiss to her hand and waved it at Chekov. "Bye Pasha," she told him sleepily.

"Good bye, kotik," Chekov smiled fondly at her.

"Bye Swulu," she turned to glance at the pilot.

"Bye-bye, Abby," he replied.

When the door slid shut behind the two men only McCoy and Uhura remained.

"I guess that went okay," Jim said, falling heavily into an armchair and making Abby giggle as she bounced against his chest.

"I told you so," McCoy said smugly. Standing up, he went over to the sideboard where Jim kept his whiskey. "Drink?" he asked.

"Sure, thanks for offering," Jim replied wryly. Abby climbed down from his lap and went over to her toy box.

"Uhura?" McCoy asked, ignoring Jim's sarcasm.

"Yes, please," she replied politely before turning to Jim. "Honestly, what did you expect, Kirk?" she asked in mild exasperation.

Jim shrugged, accepting his glass from McCoy. "I don't know. It's just hard to ask for help all the time."

"You ain't asking, Jim," McCoy said scornfully, before taking a downing half of his drink. "Roose had it right; we're offering. And you should never have had any doubts to begin with."

"I didn't, not really," Jim admitted. "I just…"

"Don't like being vulnerable?" Uhura finished for him, primly sipping her whiskey.

"Yeah," Jim sighed, swirling the liquid in his glass.

"Well, this is important," McCoy said.

"It is," Jim agreed. "But the thing is, I know what we have works for now, but it's not a permanent solution; it can't be. It's not fair to you – any of you – to ask that you watch Abby when I can't. Don't say anything, Bones," Jim cut off his friend before he could get a sound out. "You all work full time jobs. I can't ask you to do more."

"You work full time, too," McCoy pointed out. "More, even, because you're captain of this tin…ship."

"I'm her father," Jim pointed out.

"Well, I'm her Uncle Bones," McCoy countered. "I can watch her if I want too."

Jim shook his head. Bones was missing the point on purpose. "Fine. But what about Roose, or Marie, or Rand, or Spock and Uhura?"

"We enjoy watching Abby," Uhura finally spoke up.

"I know, and I do appreciate it," Jim told her patiently, "but you have a life and you shouldn't have to pick up my slack."

"So what are you going to do?" McCoy asked crossing his arms and looking at Jim expectantly.

"I don't know," Jim finally said. "There's never been a situation like this, so I don't have much to go on. Normally there are two parents or the family stays behind on Earth." Jim shrugged. "I thought about maybe seeing who might be interested, maybe two or three crewmembers who might want to share nanny duties when I'm not available or daycare isn't open."

"That's not a bad idea," McCoy said.

"Yeah, but I can't play favorites and if I shifted duties for some crewmembers to watch Abby…it's not constant work. Sometimes I'm available, sometimes I'm not."

"Look, kid," McCoy interrupted. "Don't stress yourself. Things are working fine for now. We can do some research, maybe see if you can actually hire a nanny – one who can take over some of Rand's or Michaels' duties, or help in the daycare or something. One step at a time, kid. One step at a time."

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "It's a good idea to just get someone like a nanny. I bet Daugherty must know someone back at the Academy. Someone not on any specific track. I can put in a requisition or something."

Uhura's PADD made a beeping noise, letting them know that she had an incoming message. Both men turned to look at her.

"Scotty just sent his statement," she told them.

Jim let out a deep breath. "Well, that's one," he said.

"Actually, that makes four," Uhura told him.

"Four?"

"Spock, McCoy and I have already recorded our statements," she replied. "I sent them to your personal account before the meeting. You can see them at any time, sir."

"I…uh, that's okay. Thanks for doing it, though."

"We've got nothing to hide Jim," McCoy told him, "and neither do you. Now I think someone is really sleepy. Abby," he called to the toddler who was now laying down on the couch, her feet resting where her head should be and her head hanging halfway off the edge. "Come give me a hug. I'm going to bed."

Swinging her feet around, she shimmied off the couch and went over to hug McCoy, planting a big wet kiss on his cheek.

"Ni-ni, Unca Bwones," she said.

"Good night, sweetheart," McCoy replied as he hugged her. "Now go tell Nyota good night and we'll see you later."

"Ni-ni, Ny Ny," she giggled at her words.

After giving Uhura a hug and kiss, Abby ran over to Jim, who scooped her up and carried her to the door with him.

"Thanks for everything guys. Really."

"No problem, Jim," McCoy told him with a slap on the back that was loud enough to make Abby giggle again.

"Roose just sent hers," Uhura informed him as she followed McCoy out the door. "You must be doing something right, Kirk."

Jim made himself smirk. "Must be," he replied with as much cockiness as he could muster. Turning serious, he reached out and squeezed Uhura's arm gently. "Thanks, Nyota," he added softly.

"You're welcome, Jim," she replied with a small smile.

"So munchkin," Jim said to Abby when they were alone. "Who wants ice cream before bed?"

"Me! Me! Me!" Abby bounced in his arms.

"Me too," Jim leaned in and bussed her neck. "After tonight I think we deserve it."

xXx

Jim poked half heartedly at his lunch while smothering yet another yawn. He could have had lunch in his ready room, but he had felt the need to escape. Lately it seemed like the only parts of the ship he saw were the bridge, his ready room, and his quarters, with twice daily detours to the daycare center. He never expected being a starship captain to be exciting all of the time, but he hadn't expected it to be so boring, either.

There was always paperwork – requisition forms, crew evaluations, mission reports, prospective mission reports, complaints, disciplinary summaries, and time sheet reports. It seemed never ending, even with Spock's and Rand's help. He still loved being a captain. The thrill of seeing new discoveries, or discovering something new about something everyone thought they already knew everything about didn't get old. He enjoyed meeting new people and experiencing new cultures. Watching his crewmembers as the found new information or formulated new theories never got old and the pride he felt on their behalf when they submitted their breakthroughs knew no bounds. He knew he was lucky beyond his wildest expectations, but he was just so tired.

When they were on taxi duty, which seemed to be the norm since they were ordered away from M'Qtobau and he'd been made to stand down as captain, there just wasn't much for him to do except paperwork. All the departments had their own experiments and projects going, but he could only bug them so much. The VIPs didn't need their hands held, so while he did his best to be a good host, a tour of the ship, drinks in Ten Forward and a few captain's dinners were all that he had to keep himself occupied while they were on the ship.

Off shift he had Abby to take care of. It wasn't that she was a burden, not at all, but she was a toddler and after a long day, sometimes all Jim wanted to do was relax. Abby didn't mind relaxing, it was just that his idea of relaxing didn't involve an episode or two of the Smooglies. He did manage to make it to the gym most days, if only to burn off extra energy and keep his fitness up. He and Spock usually played chess once or twice a week while Abby and Nyota had a girl's night, and McCoy was always up for drinks and a chat, but Jim was missing more than that.

He was missing the companionship that he had had with Marissa. How they shared their duties as parents and if one of them had a bad day or was busy, the other one could pick up the slack. It had worked well for them. And even if they were both tired, they could watch Abby together, snuggling on the couch or cleaning up dinner together, their conversation light and just being near each other enough to satisfy them both.

Being a single parent was hard. Some days it was exhausting, but Jim made himself keep going. He had a whole new respect for his mother now, though he still didn't see how she could have left him and Sam, both emotionally and physically, as she had. He felt stretched thin some days, but he wasn't giving up. Some days Abby's smile, so like Marissa's, was the only thing that got him through.

The clatter of a tray being set down on the table in front of him startled Jim out of his morose thoughts

"So kid, you hear anything yet?" McCoy asked as he slid into the chair across from Jim in the cafeteria.

"Not yet," Jim shook his head. "The initial findings – when both sides present their evidence and the judge decides if it's worth going forward - were supposed to happen tomorrow, but then got postponed to sometime next week."

McCoy shook his head. "If there's any justice in this universe it will end there," he said.

Jim snorted. "Yeah, we'll see. I'm not a big fan of the justice of this universe, especially as it pertains to me."

McCoy took a bite of his sandwich and looked Jim over carefully, seeing the tired lines and dark circles under his friend's eyes, and noting how he'd barely touched his hamburger and fries. "What's up?" he asked, once he'd swallowed.

Jim poked at his burger with an overcooked fry. "We're making a supply stop at Starbase 12," he said. "Scotty needs more nano-converters and they have a good market for some fresh food – fruits and vegetables mostly. We'll even have a day or two for shore leave."

"Well, that sounds good, right?" McCoy questioned. "We get a chance to stretch our legs and get off this floating tin can for a bit."

"Don't let Scotty hear you say that," Jim smirked. "Besides, you're only trading one tin can for another."

"Yes, but a bigger one," McCoy pointed out, stabbing his fork at Jim.

"A stationary one," Jim argued, though his heart wasn't in it. "One that can only react defensively if attacked. One that has a view that never changes. Seriously Bones, I know you would have preferred a starbase assignment over a ship, but how boring is that? Always waiting for something new to show up; the view never changing. Bor-ring," Jim sing-songed.

"Nice try kid," McCoy shook his head. It was an old argument. One that was totally moot now that McCoy had followed Jim into the black for the past two years and more. "I'm not falling for that topic change. What's got you so down?"

Jim's challenging grin faded and he looked away uncomfortably. "In order to keep the judge happy and show that I'm a good guy, Fischer recommended that I follow through with one of Matthew's requests and send him Marissa's stuff," Jim explained. "I packed it up last night," he finished softly.

"Shit," McCoy replied softly. "I'm sorry Jim. Why didn't you have Rand do it? Or comm. me?"

Jim shook his head, pushing away his barely eaten meal. "I couldn't. She… It was my responsibility. We weren't married but," he trailed off. "Janice was right, he sent a list. He even had things on it that she bought after we were deployed. I guess he has access to her bank account now."

"That should go to Abby," McCoy protested.

Jim shrugged. "Yeah, but he was probably her next of kin. It all goes to him. I'm not worried about the money. I'm making five times my pay grade as a cadet lieutenant and I have no real expenses. My bank account is padded enough to give Abby everything she needs. There are some things though – things she bought as souvenirs – that it would be nice to keep, to remember our time together. I mean, I have the things I bought, but… I bought them for her.

"You are not sending those things to him," McCoy interjected.

"Of course not," Jim replied indignantly. "If it's not explicitly on the damn list, I'm not sending it, but," he paused. "I really want to keep her quilt. That's what kept me up last night. You know the one; blue and green with all the stars? It was always on the couch. Nana Rose made it for her when she joined Starfleet and… Marissa was always chilly, so she was always using it. For weeks after…every time I held it, it still smelled like her," he told McCoy wistfully. "I'd like to keep it for Abby, but it was the first thing on the list."

"That's just stupid," McCoy commented. "It should go to Abby. Marissa's grandmother would want Abby to have it."

"I know," Jim told him, "but it's a game now and I have to play by the rules. He wants the quilt, he can have the damn thing. I have Abby and that's the most important thing."

"I still can't believe he's trying to take her," McCoy said after he took another bite. "It makes no sense."

"The man has never liked me," Jim shrugged. "He's always been super protective and controlling, and now… I just wish I knew if Nancy or Rose were in on this. I thought… I thought they liked me. I can't imagine them trying to take Abby from me, but…" he shrugged again.

"Jim, what happens if something happens to you?" McCoy asked after another pause where he ate and Jim stared over his shoulder. "And don't tell me nothing's going to happen," he glared. "Something could happen anytime. Dubiwiiy proved that; and M'Qtobau."

Jim obviously wanted to protest, but shut his mouth with a definite click of teeth. "You're my next of kin," he finally said.

McCoy nodded. "I thought so, but that's for you. What about for Abby? I'm her godfather, but…"

"Would you take her?" Jim asked hesitantly.

"Of course," McCoy responded immediately, to Jim's relief. "But I'm a divorced dad who doesn't even have custody of his own daughter." McCoy paused and looked at Jim. "What about… Have you thought about Sam?"

Jim shook his head slowly. "He's my brother, but I don't know him anymore and Abby doesn't know him at all. He and Aurelan were nice people and I want to get to know them, but I guess I always thought you and Janine… Between the two of you, you'd take care of Abby."

"And we would," McCoy reassured him, "if that's what you want. I think we all agree we want whatever is best for Abby."

"Well, if you stay on the _Enterprise_ you could always raise her by committee," Jim said with a wry smile. "But then that's what we're doing now."

McCoy gave him a pointed look, even going so far as to raise his eyebrow as if to say 'are you an idiot?' "We're helping, but you're definitely raising her, Jim. And quite well. Even the hobgoblin agrees and so does Lieutenant Daugherty with all her degrees in early childhood education."

"Thanks, Bones."

"You're welcome," he replied brusquely. "I'm just saying now that you got yourself your very own ambulance chaser you should look into what you would want for Abby should something happen. No one was expecting to lose Marissa. If you don't want O'Donnell to have her, but," a thoughtful look came over McCoy's face, "maybe if something happens to you he would be…"

"No," Jim shook his head adamantly. "Absolutely not. And not just because he's being an ass now. I don't want Abby living in his household. Marissa came out okay, but she had her grandmother to watch over her and act as a buffer. I don't think Nancy's strong enough to stand up to him and besides…they're too old."

"They have young kids," McCoy pointed out. "The girls were seven or eight, right?"

"Maddy's eight and Melanie is six now, but that's a pretty big age difference for kids. And I don't think Matthew is really involved with them."

"I'm not trying to talk you into it," McCoy protested. "If he were to get her we'd never get to see her, I'm sure."

"Probably not," Jim agreed.

"Well, kid," McCoy said, gathering his things, his lunch finished. "Think about it. You're all grown up now. It's time to start thinking about this stuff."

Jim chuckled softly and shook his head. "Thanks Bones, oh mighty wise one."

McCoy gave a causal salute before he picked up his tray, his food all gone, though Jim's plate was still mostly full. "No problem, kid."

_Please review_


	14. Chapter 14

**Complications**

**Chapter 14**

**Stardate 2260.79**

Shuffling the PADDs on his desk, Jim searched for the requisition form Scotty had submitted. He had just seen it. It had been a long day of requisition forms, shore leave rosters, and looking over duty schedules. He had a departmental head meeting tomorrow and he wanted to be as organized as possible. Luckily, he had Rand and Spock to help him out or he'd be swamped. Abby had caught a flu that seemed to be raging through the daycare facility and she'd been grouchy and miserable for a couple days now, making things that much more difficult.

Now almost twenty-one months, she was much more demanding and harder to handle when she wasn't happy. He couldn't just give her a bottle or put her down for a nap. She had a definite opinion about things now and when she wasn't happy she wasn't easy to reason with.

Unfortunately for Abby, it looked like she had her father's immune system. McCoy had given her the standard hypo for the Savarian flu and she'd immediately turned bright red and began having trouble breathing, something that had freaked Jim out. McCoy had a gamma albuterol hypo at the ready and the allergy symptoms had magically disappeared, but it meant that Abby had to suffer through the flu with only basic medicines for aches and pains and congestion.

Feeling miserable, Abby had only wanted to be held and watch Smooglies, but Jim really wasn't able to accommodate her and he felt horrible about it. Rand had helped out, as had Uhura and Chekov during their time off, but it was especially hard on Jim to see her tears as he left her in the care of somebody else while he went to the bridge. At this point he was feeling as tired and out of sorts as Abby and the paperwork wasn't helping.

"Captain," Rand said as she stepped into the ready room, interrupting his thoughts.

"Rand, have you seen Scotty's requisition form?" Jim asked, still looking over his desk.

"I have it right here," she replied, reaching into the stack in her arms and handing it to him. "Remember we talked about getting Scotty to specify the number of transtator chips he needed."

"Oh, yeah," Jim shook his head, absently rubbing his eyes. He'd left his reading glasses in his quarters and he was paying for it now. "I forgot. Did you need something?" he asked after looking over Scotty's form again. Everything looked right.

"We've received another request from Starfleet," she said flatly, not looking happy about it.

"What now?" Jim asked in exasperation. In the past few weeks they'd begun receiving requests for information regarding duty rosters from various departments, shore leave rotation for certain months, and random weeks of communication records.

"They want the shore leave rosters for Starbase 17 and Belgernon II, as well as the duty roster for cartography from Stardate 2259.17 through 2259.66 and for the last three months."

"Cartography? Really?" Jim said in surprise.

"Yes, sir."

"This is getting ridiculous," Jim commented. "What the hell are they looking for and why now? This is getting to the point of harassment."

"I agree, sir," Rand said. "I've never heard of these types of requests being made unless a ship is being audited for something."

"Something like what?" Jim prodded, noticing the uncomfortable look on his yeoman's face. She'd handled the earlier requests for information for him. It hadn't come to his attention until just a week ago that Starfleet seemed to want more from the _Enterprise_ than they usually did.

"I spoke with my old supervisor, Commander White," she told him hesitantly, "and she said that it sounds like the initial stages of an investigation into misappropriation."

"Misappropriation of _what_?"

Rand shrugged. "Misappropriation of resources, personnel, funds. It could be anything at this point considering what they've been asking for."

Jim ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Couldn't they just announce what they're looking for? I mean all these requests for information… it's getting ridiculous. If they'd just say what the hell they want, I'd give it to them."

"I agree sir," Rand nodded. "Commander White said…"

"Captain," Uhura's voice interrupted. "You have an incoming comm. from Admiral Pike."

"Great," Jim sighed. "Patch him through. You're dismissed Rand. Send them what they want and keep me informed of anything else." He gave her a painful smile as she left and then turned to his screen. "Admiral, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Pike looked a bit more haggard than usual and his lips were pursed tightly. "You didn't hear this from me, Kirk, but a shit storm is about to descend on you and the _Enterprise_."

"Excuse me?" Jim asked, sitting forward in his chair, suddenly tense and alert.

"You are about to be under investigation for misappropriation of Starfleet personnel, giving favoritism and preference for favors, using your position to punish or inconvenience others, and possibly…" Pike paused and made sure he had Jim's full attention, "sexual harassment," he completed ominously. "From what I've heard they might not have enough of a case for that, but…" he shook his head. "Even a hint can be enough to derail a career."

Jim just stared at him dumbfounded. "What the hell!"

"It appears you have a disgruntled crewmember," Pike told him. "And this person is stirring up all kinds of shit at the Admiralty. Dekker is looking downright smug, though he doesn't seem to have any connection to the investigation."

"Who the hell does?" Jim demanded. If he was going to get taken to task, he sure as hell wanted to know who was reaming him.

"I'm not positive, but I think it was Admiral Collins who initiated everything with Internal Affairs," Pike told him.

Jim laughed bitterly. "Great. And you say Dekker has nothing to do with it."

"I'm surprised you know their connection," Pike said.

"I have my sources," Jim told him wryly. "This is asinine, Admiral."

"I know, Jim," Pike agreed. "You should be getting the formal papers in the next couple days. So far it seems like a bunch of smoke and mirrors with no real evidence that I've heard of. Favoritism is hard to prove, so is punishing someone with a bad schedule or shore leave rotation. But the last accusation; Starfleet takes that very seriously, Jim."

Jim glared at the screen. "What are you saying, Admiral?"

"I'm not saying anything," Pike shook his head, "but I am wondering if there's going to be anything in your past that could bite you on the ass if this investigation starts in full."

"I have never played favorites," Jim told him, deliberately being obtuse. His personal life was just that, personal. "And I have never used my position to punish anyone for anything. If there are disciplinary problems they are settled by a committee of me, Spock and the person's department head. I let the department heads work up their monthly schedules and I rubber stamp them. I don't have any real input into them. Spock does the majority of shore leave rosters. He's got some weird algorithm that he uses or we have a lottery, and I'm fine with that. Rand has all the documentation. If someone is feeling slighted or persecuted, it's in their own mind, trust me."

"And the harassment?" Pike prodded.

Jim took several deep breaths and tried to control his anger. "Since I've become captain it's only been Marissa and I haven't had…relations…with anyone else since she…left," he admitted, angry that he had to discuss this, even with Pike. "I haven't even been interested. I have Abby and the _Enterprise_ to look after. I don't have the time or energy to chase after someone."

"I believe you Jim," Pike said honestly. "But they have to have something to be able to even think of leveling such a serious offense. They can't just throw something like that at you and hope it will stick."

"I…I think I know who it is," Jim admitted.

"And does she have something on you?"

"No," Jim said instantly. "We have a…history; one night when we were cadets. After I failed the Kobyashi Maru the first time," Jim told him. "It was only that one drunken night, but she wanted more while we were at the Academy and I said no. I really had other things on my mind at the time. Then, on the ship," Jim sighed. "I guess she didn't like Marissa. There were always rumors about us, me and Marissa, and there was a pool after Abby was born, betting when I would leave her for someone else." Even now his anger at the pool settled quickly in his stomach.

Pike frowned disapprovingly.

"I had Spock put a stop to it, but that was it," Jim admitted. "I eventually found out who was running it, but as upset as I was I knew that if I did anything in retaliation I would be violating my position, so I let it go. She, the crewmember, already had a couple black marks on her record for conduct unbecoming and insubordination from her department head, so I just let it go; figured she'd hang herself eventually."

"So where does the harassment come in?" Pike asked.

"There was no harassment," Jim declared. "If anyone should be filing that charge it should be me! She came to my quarters late one night."

"And you let her in?" Pike asked incredulously.

Jim glared. "It was after 2200 and I was expecting Bones. Once she was in my quarters…well, call me a gentleman, but I didn't want to just kick her out if she wanted to legitimately talk to me."

"Did she?"

"No," Jim admitted heavily. "It was the night of Marissa's memorial and I was…I wasn't doing so well. She was all sympathetic, but then she…she began touching me – my knee, my leg. And then she propositioned me. I said no, of course, and then Bones showed up and she left. I never even hinted that I was interested in her, but she played up our past – the one night we spent together. Hell," he frowned. "It wasn't even a night, it was only a couple of hours. I didn't even remember her name until she cornered me, asking for another hook up."

"We should all be so lucky," Pike mumbled, causing Jim to glare at him again. "I'm sorry," he said immediately contrite. "It's just with your reputation…"

"Fuck it," Jim ground out. "I slept around. I was a horny bastard my first year, maybe even my second year compared to most, but by my third year…yeah, no. I had two friends that I'd meet up with when it suited us, but I was too into my studies to have time to screw around. And since then it was only Marissa. I shouldn't have to defend my sex life to anyone, even you, sir."

"I know, Kirk," Pike said sympathetically. "But I have to know the whole story if I'm going to help you. No way am I letting my protégé get hung out to dry. So don't bite my head off, okay? I'm going to see what I can do on my end to head some of this off."

Jim's anger calmed down. "I'm sorry, sir. I do appreciate the warning and everything. What do you think I should do?"

"Well, don't try to hide anything," Pike said. "Not that I think you would. Just give them what they want; answer their questions honestly. Don't lose your temper," he warned, narrowing his eyes. "I don't know what angle they are going for, but be ready."

"I will sir," Jim nodded. "Should I contact my lawyer from the JAG, or…" he thought about it for a second. "If Collins is in on this…that might not be a good idea."

"I only suspect it was Collins who started this, but you should probably leave the JAG out of this for now," Pike agreed, then paused. "Why the hell do you have a lawyer? What haven't you told me? Damn it, Jim. I told you to keep me in the loop on things like that."

"No, no, it's nothing…" Jim shook his head. "It's nothing official. Nothing Starfleet related."

"Then why the hell do you need a lawyer?" Pike demanded.

Jim sighed heavily. "Marissa's dad is suing me for custody of Abby," Jim told him.

"He's what?" Pike asked incredulously. "Now?"

"Yeah."

"On what grounds?"

"On the grounds that I'm an unfit parent and the _Enterprise_ is an unsafe place to raise a child," Jim said calmly enough, though it still burned.

Pike just stared at him, a confused look on his face. "That just doesn't make sense. I mean…honestly? I just… it's ridiculous. He's got no case. He can't. Anyone who's seen you with Abby… That's just stupid."

Jim smiled wryly. "Thanks for you support…Pa pa."

"I'm serious, Jim," Pike frowned.

"I know, Admiral," Jim nodded. "And I appreciate it."

"When did this all start?"

"I was first contacted about a month after… after M'Qtobau," Jim explained. "The lawyer told me to drop off Abby at some starbase. I refused."

"Of course," Pike snorted.

"I contacted the JAG right away and then a week later the bastard made it official," Jim sneered. "He wants full custody of Abby. My lawyer had me ask some of the crew – those who know me best and who watch over Abby occasionally – to submit statements as to their opinion of me as a parent and Abby being on the ship." He shrugged. "That was about two, two and half weeks ago. Now we're just waiting for the judge to decide if Matthew has a good enough case against me to proceed."

Pike stared thoughtfully somewhere off screen, his mind obviously working on something.

"What?" Jim asked after the other man remained silent for too long. "What are you thinking?"

Pike shook his head slowly, his eyes coming back to focus on Jim. "I'm thinking that…it seems odd - this custody thing and now the investigation."

Jim snorted. "Welcome to my life."

Pike frowned. "Look Jim, I'm going to look into some things."

"What are you…"

"I don't want to talk about it right now," Pike interrupted. "It just seems too…coincidental for my tastes."

"We've thought of that too," Jim commented. "And maybe with this new investigation…"

"We'll talk about it later, Jim," Pike said, this time there was a definite warning in his tone. "In the mean time, do you want me to look into getting you another lawyer?"

"No, thanks," Jim said, shaking his head, forcing himself to let it go for now. He had his own suspicions, but he also had a ship to run and a sick daughter. He'd have to trust Pike to let him know if there really was something more going on. "You've done enough. I don't want you to get too involved in case this really does become a shit storm. Spock's been talking with Sarek," he told Pike. "I'll see if he knows someone."

Pike nodded, looking impressed. "You're in good hands then. Would you mind if I talked with Sarek? Just to keep on top of things?"

"Fine with me," Jim said. "Now, as much fun as this has been, Admiral, I have to go. Abby's been sick and I need to get back to my quarters to relieve Chapel for her shift."

"Take care, Jim," Pike nodded. "And give Abby a squeeze for me."

"Will do, Admiral. Kirk out."

xXx

The official statement came two days later in a special communiqué marked Captain's Eyes Only. There was nothing filed against him yet, he was simply notified that he was under investigation by Starfleet Internal Affairs for misappropriation of Starfleet personnel and resources, and abuse of his position. The last bit amounted to an accusation of favoritism in regards to shore leave and shift rotations.

Jim was thankful that Pike's warning of a sexual harassment suit hadn't been mentioned. Apparently they didn't have enough evidence, which was good, seeing as nothing had actually happened.

After he'd gotten off the comm. with Pike and managed to calm down, Jim had called Rand into his ready room and asked her about any rumors floating around the ship to do with him. He'd heard whispers of something in the past few weeks, but had ignored them, but now he needed to know. As usual his yeoman was a fount of knowledge when it came to the ship's gossip network.

Shortly after Marissa's memorial a rumor had started that Jim had tried to drown his sorrows in someone else's arms and then kicked them out of his quarters without a by-your-leave. No name had been attached to that rumor until a couple days after it had started and no surprises, Ensign Tenial was said to be the wounded party. She'd gained some sympathy at first, but her invective against Jim had increased with each telling and her credibility was called into question when she began talking about how Jim had confided to her that his relationship with Marissa had been a mistake and while he missed her, because of the sex and the fact that she looked after Abby, he was also relieved that she was gone.

Apparently no one had believed that.

Jim had seen red when Rand had explained it all.

She, Chapel and Marie from cartography had taken it upon themselves to counteract the rumors. Marie talked up Marissa and Jim's relationship and Tenial's obvious jealousy and baiting of Marissa in which Marissa had turned the other cheek. Chapel had gone to McCoy when the rumors became too prominent and he shared the little tidbit about Tenial propositioning Jim and getting tossed out on her rear, which Chapel had stealthily spread throughout Medical and the pharmacy. And since Rand was Jim's yeoman the crew easily believed anything she said regarding her boss and his deep grief. Blushing, she admitted to letting a conversation between herself and Chapel be overheard by Crewmember Foisy, a notorious gossip, where she said that she'd accidentally walked in on Jim crying.

Jim wasn't sure how he felt about that last little piece of information. He didn't cry. Ever. It was something that had been beaten out of him as a young teen, but he did appreciate their efforts.

Uhura had identified when Tenial had contacted Starfleet, but none of them could figure out why she had decided to take that major step. She could have gone to Spock and raised holy hell on the ship, or she could have just let it drop as obviously not many people believed her, but instead she'd gone straight to the JAG, not even human resources or their IOG section adninistrator. And she hadn't even needed to call around, she'd had a direct line to whoever she spoke with.

Rand had pointed out that she'd contacted Starfleet shortly after her shore leave on the outpost on 55 Cancri f., which made them all suspicious that someone was keeping abreast of gossip on the _Enterprise_ and trying to stir the pot by encouraging crewmembers like Tenial to press charges. Jim had to wonder who else might have been approached and if anything else might be coming at him. As far as he knew he was on good terms with all of his crew.

In the Eyes Only communiqué the _Enterprise_ was ordered to pick up Internal Affairs auditor on Lerocwen, but first they had to visit Ulvia and wave the flag and impress the natives. Jim was currently buttoning up his dress uniform, cursing the tight neck. This would be the first time that he would be off the ship and away from Abby for more than a couple hours. In fact, the away team was expected to stay two nights in order to witness the Uluvian Hosiatto, a springtime festival that celebrated the fertility of their planet.

"Abby will you be a good girl for Miss Christine and Miss Janice?" Jim asked the toddler who was currently flopping backwards on his bed, narrowly missing his small suitcase each time.

"Uh huh," she replied with a giggle as she regained her feet and flopped again.

Jim shook his head. "Come here, you," he said, grabbing her and giving her a loud kiss. "Do you remember that dada has to go visit the Ulvians and that you are going to stay with Miss Janice?"

This time Abby nodded. "Dada go bye-bye," she told him. "Come back soon."

"Uh, yeah," Jim agreed hesitantly. He really didn't want her to associate his leaving with Marissa's. After all, Marissa was supposed to have come back soon, too. "I'll be home in two days," he explained. "Today you go visit Ms. Daugherty and then you get to spend the night with Miss Janice and Miss Christine. And then Miss Janice will take you to visit Ms. Daugherty and then you get to spend the night again and then Dada will be home to get you from daycare. Okay?"

"O-tay," Abby told him, nodded her head enthusiastically.

Jim sighed heavily. She didn't understand and this wasn't going to be good, but he had no other choice. He had to go down to Ulvia and attend the festival. Sulu, Chekov and Scotty were staying on board, but he, Spock, Uhura and McCoy along with a small security detail had to go.

The door chime rang and Jim tossed Abby on the bed, making her giggle loudly.

"Miss Janice is here, Munchkin," he said as he walked to the door. "Are you ready for daycare?"

"Yup!" she declared, clambering off the bed and running after him.

"Hi Janice," Jim smiled at his yeoman.

"Captain," she replied. "Are you ready to go see Ms. Daugherty, Abby? I heard you get to paint today."

"YEAH!" Abby screeched, causing the adults to wince. She loved painting, but it always required another set of clothes. No matter how big or encompassing her apron was, she always managed to get paint everywhere.

"I guess you can get into our quarters if you need more clothes," he shrugged good-naturedly.

"We'll be fine, Captain," Janice reassured him, grabbing Abby's over night bag and blanket. Abby already had Sehlat in her grip.

"I know, I just…" he trailed off and picked Abby up. "Come here, munchkin. Can I have a kiss and hug good-bye?"

She instantly wrapped her little arms around his neck and squeezed, causing Jim's throat to tighten as he squeezed back. "You be a good girl and I'll see you in a couple days."

"Dada come home soon?" she asked, her lip suddenly quivering, her mood changing like flipping a switch. "Like mama?"

Jim's heart clenched and Janice let out a startled gasp. "No, baby, no. Not like mama," Jim told her, trying to head off the tears that seemed to be building. "I'm going to go visit the Ulvians for two days and then I will be back. Two days," he repeated, holding up two fingers. "Can you count to two?"

"Wun," Abby said, poking one of his upraised fingers. "Twwoo," she poked the other one.

"Very good," Jim smiled, giving her a kiss. "You will sleep in Miss Janice's quarters for two nights and then I will be home. I promise."

"O-tay," she replied, storm avoided and smiling again.

"Why don't you go pick out your favorite Smooglies vid to take with you? I'm sure Miss. Janice would love to watch it."

Putting her down, Jim turned to Janice. "I don't know if she really understands," he told his yeoman, seeing the sympathy in her eyes. "Just…just don't tell her I'm coming home soon. That's what we said…what I said about Marissa and…"

"I understand, Captain," Janice reached out a hand and squeezed his arm. "I know this will be hard on both of you, but you have to go. Abby will be fine. She knows us. She might get fussy, but we'll handle it."

"You could comm. me if she gets too bad," Jim suggested.

Janice just looked at him with her look that said, don't be ridiculous. "That's not such a good idea. What if you're at a function or in the middle of something important?"

"I know," Jim admitted. "Just…I'll try to comm. before she goes to bed if I can. You can let me know if it will help or not. And worse case, I guess…you can always try Chekov. She's always good for him."

"We'll be fine, Captain." She glanced behind him, holding out a hand. "Are you ready Abby? We better hurry if you want to get the good paints." Abby eagerly grabbed her hand. "Say bye to your daddy."

"Bye dada," Abby waved as she walked away, blowing him a kiss.

Jim pretended to catch it. "Bye Abby. Be good. I love you."

"Wuv yoo," she repeated before skipping off with Rand.

He watched them walk and then turn the corner before he stepped back inside and let the door close. "Shit," he muttered. This was harder on him than on Abby; at least for the moment. Going into his room he grabbed his bag and marched off to meet the away team in the transporter room. He could do this.

The looks of concern and veiled sympathy when he entered the transporter room to find the away team already assembled pricked his temper a little. He was fine.

"How's Abby?" McCoy asked.

"She's fine," Jim replied, piling his bag with the others and moving to stand on the transporter pad. "She's looking forward to painting."

"That's good," Uhura said, offering him an encouraging grin. "That'll keep her distracted."

"Yeah," Jim agreed. But what was going to keep him distracted, he wondered.

"Rand and Chris will take good care of her, Jim," McCoy offered. "You have nothing to worry about."

"I know," Jim snapped and then sighed. "Look, let's just get this over with. Scotty?" he looked over at his chief engineer.

"Ready when you are, Capt'n," he replied instantly. "I'll have your bags transported to their concierge as soon as I'm done with you."

"All right then, energize," Jim said. The sooner they got there, the sooner they could leave; at least that was how Jim was going to think about it.

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	15. Chapter 15

**Complications**

**Chapter 15**

**Stardate 2260.83**

The first day on Ulvia was filled with meetings and tours and a fancy lunch that they all enjoyed. They must have met and shook hands with all of the royal family and most of the Wotingirmet, which was the equivalent of a senate or parliament on Earth. Everyone was pleasant and eager to show off the delights of their planet, but by the time dinner rolled around Jim was all smiled out and desperately wanting to see his daughter.

"How're you holding up, Jim?" McCoy asked, walking into Jim's room. The away team had been assigned to a small villa that had six bedrooms off of a central living area. They even had their own butler they could summon if they needed anything. All in all in it was a very nice set up.

"My cheeks hurt," Jim told him honestly, sprawled out on the bed in his dress pants and undershirt. "My neck is starting to get a rash from my damn collar and my back is beginning to ache from all the bowing. I don't understand how Uhura's knees haven't given out yet. She's got a pretty deep curtsey thing going. The natives are impressed."

"They are," McCoy agreed. Bowing was the thing on this planet. Men bowed, women curtseyed as deeply as they could. Uhura could almost go deep enough to kneel on the ground, but rose gracefully each time. "And my neck itches, too. Domoian said that if we want to we can participate in the ceremony tomorrow and wear traditional Ulvian attire. I don't know what they look like exactly, but he described it as being pretty similar to what they wear usually, just lighter fabric and looser."

"Sounds good to me," Jim agreed. "But I'll wait until I see it. My luck we'll be expected to go pant-less or something weird."

"You can decide tomorrow," McCoy agreed, "but for now you have to get ready. We have about fifteen minutes."

"I wanted to contact the _Enterprise_…"

"I'm sure Abby's fine, Jim," McCoy told him.

"I know, but I want to tell her good night," Jim said stubbornly.

"Fine," McCoy huffed, "but make it quick."

In the end, Jim didn't talk to Abby. When he commed she was in the middle of a Smooglies marathon with Christine. The evening had gone well with only a few minor hiccoughs and questions regarding where Jim was and neither Jim nor Rand wanted to disturb the balance, so Jim signed off without saying good night, but relieved that Abby was doing well without him. He did his best to make sure the Ulvians didn't know that his thoughts were elsewhere throughout dinner. Abby may be handling their separation well enough, but at the moment all he wanted was to be on the ship with her.

The next morning after seeing the loose looking pants and button-up shirt that the natives wore during their festival, Jim was all for swapping his stifling dress uniform for something comfortable. They'd given him a deep blue set that brought out the color of his eyes spectacularly, if he did say so himself. McCoy and Uhura had decided to go native too, wearing green and red respectively, which left only Spock in full Starfleet regalia.

The day commenced with a parade, followed by an outdoor lunch on the city common. Abby would have loved it. McCoy and Jim found a place not far from their hosts to sit and relax and watch the locals. It was similar to a great big picnic, but had the feel of a county fair too. There were speeches, performances, games and contests, and booths where special items could be purchased. Uhura seemed to be in her element, moving through the crowds and practicing her skills, Spock a close, but not too close, three paces behind her at all times. Jim felt a slight pain at watching them, knowing that had Marissa been there with them he'd be the one following behind watching over her as she interacted with the natives.

McCoy let out a loud guffaw when Uhura placed a crown of woven grasses and flowers on Spock's head and then had him place a matching one on hers. This seemed to cause no small amount of giggling among the crowd that was following them. Jim watched as Uhura leaned up and whispered something to Spock, her expression no longer playful. When they both turned to look over at him and McCoy, Jim felt a bit apprehensive, but from their expressions they didn't seem too troubled, just wary.

"Jim," McCoy nudged him, bringing his attention away from his two other crewmembers, "we have company, or rather, you do."

"Huh?" Jim turned his head and looked over to where McCoy was nodding. Sure enough, walking hesitantly towards them was Reniata, one of the daughters of the planet's prime minister. She was young, but had acted as their guide through her father's home and over the grounds while her father had been in a meeting. She had been nervous and spoke extremely softly, but eventually Uhura had helped her relax. Jim hadn't paid her much mind at first, until McCoy had pointed out at dinner that their young guide had apparently taken a liking to him and was constantly sneaking glances.

"Oh boy," Jim muttered, turning back to face the crowds and trying to find Uhura. Reniata spoke standard well enough, but there were times when Jim had trouble understanding her. He'd feel much better if he had someone who could translate for him. He wasn't an idiot, he could see that as the day wore on more and more people were wearing the woven wreaths or crowns. And those that were wearing them were definitely pairing up.

In her hands, Reniata carried two wreaths. He didn't think they were for him and McCoy.

"Captain Jim," she said softly, curtseying before him.

"Mao Reniata," Jim replied formally, as Uhura had coached him. He stood and bowed.

"I please to accept from Reniata this _banvoi_," she said. Jim had to lean down to catch what she was saying.

"I…" Jim hesitated, afraid to reach out and take the wreath that she was holding out to him, but also afraid to offend her. It felt like all the activity and conversations going on around them had stopped and everyone was looking at them.

Nervously she looked over her shoulder at her father who smiled at her indulgently and waved her on.

She took a deep breath and looked back at Jim. "Today is my premiere Hosiatto," she told him blushing. "I wish to share with you our…customs," she fumbled for the right word, blushing even further.

"I wish to learn of your customs," Jim told her. "But I think I would be better off observing rather than participating."

His words obviously confused her and Jim found himself looking again for Uhura.

"You take," she held out the wreath again. "My father is happy. We _helenavo_ Hosiatto. We dance. We praise Hosia. We give thanks to Hosia. Hosia is happy that you…" she floundered again, "you…come with me. My father is happy. Is good for Ulvia and for Hosia. Please?" she spoke to him and this time he could see the anxiety in her gaze. She wasn't just embarrassed, she was anxious. This was obviously very important to her and to her father and to all the others who were watching their interaction, not even pretending otherwise.

At a loss, Jim glanced over at McCoy who just shrugged. "Don't look at me kid," he said. "You're the captain."

"Thanks Bones," Jim muttered. Turning back to Reniata, Jim was still unsure as to what to do. Should he accept? He didn't want to offend Reniata, her father, or the people of Ulvia, but what did accepting actually entail? He'd been around the block enough to know that he should know all the details before doing anything, but she was still looking up at him so hopefully, her eyes pleading and it might have been a trick of a the light, but they looked like they were filling with tears.

"Please, Captain Jim?" she whispered again, her voice and hands trembling as she held the wreath out to him.

What harm could it do? Jim thought with a deep sigh. "I would be…"

"Captain!" Uhura's voice interrupted him.

"Uhura," Jim sighed in relief. "I was wondering where you were. Reniata has offered me a wreath and I was about to accept it, but…"

"No, you weren't," Uhura told him.

"I wasn't?"

"No," Uhura shook her head before turning to Reniata and speaking quickly. The people around them began moving in, everyone listening carefully to what Uhura had to say and then staring at Jim.

Reniata asked a few questions and then seemed to sigh with relief, glancing briefly over at her father, who was too far away to listen, and then back at Jim. She curtseyed and then spoke rapidly in her own tongue, looking over at Uhura to translate.

"Mao Reniata apologizes for making such an offer to you at this time, Captain," Uhura repeated for Jim.

"There is no need for an apology," Jim reassured the young woman with a small smile, wishing the Ulvians wouldn't have taken offense at the use of universal translators. Their standard was good, but there were times Jim really wished he understood everything being said by Reniata and not just the gist that was being communicated in broken language.

Reniata rattled off some more words. "She meant no disrespect, she was only looking for a partner for the Hosiatto and your participation would have been most auspicious, but she understands why you cannot join her."

"Thank you for your understanding," Jim replied, though he was still confused as to exactly why he couldn't or wouldn't be participating. If it was just dancing and celebrating…

Reniata rattled off more words, curtseying and bowing her head to him, one small hand over her heart.

"Mao Reniata offers her condolences for your loss and hopes that your time of mourning will pass," Uhura intoned staring hard at Jim.

"What?" Jim asked in surprise. "Oh…" How had that issue come up in their conversation? Jim was very determined to keep his personal life out of his professional dealings as captain. It wasn't like Uhura to bring up the loss of Marissa. Uhura was giving him a look like he was being an idiot. Had he missed something in the briefing? "What exactly does participating in the Hosiatto entail, Lieutenant?" he asked, curious. Uhura had to have had a good reason to share his personal life with Reniata and those Ulvians around him.

"Hosiatto is a fertility festival, Captain," Uhura said, managing to glare while looking perfectly polite. "Throughout the day they find and choose partners and exchange _banvoi_," she held a hand to the wreath on her head. "Then in the evening the partners share dinner, participate in the scheduled weddings and then dance and praise Hosia. And then they… practice fertility in honor of Hosia, in hopes of an abundant food harvest and…an increase in population."

Jim's eyes went wide in surprise and McCoy covered his laugh with a cough.

"A child conceived during the Hosiatto is considered blessed," she told him, letting him know without saying it that she was saving his ass again. "This is Reniata's first Hosiatto where she is old enough to choose a partner, and your…participation…would have brought her much prestige and honor."

"Uh, well, I… that is a great…honor," Jim said to Reniata, glancing over at Uhura who nodded encouragingly. "But I am… unable to…participate. My…" he looked over at Uhura again in a panic. What could he say?

Uhura once again rattled off a bunch of words and Reniata nodded. She took a step towards Jim and placed her small hand on his chest. "Too soon," she looked up at him. "Your heart…your _gia_…is to another. I am sorry," she stepped back and curtseyed.

"Thank you," Jim bowed.

Reniata whispered something to a woman, a member of her father's household, who had come to stand beside her. The woman left, but quickly returned with another wreath, though this one was too wide to fit on his head and was made of all white flowers.

"I may?" Reniata asked, stepping towards Jim once again holding up the flowers.

"Uh…" Jim paused, but Uhura nodded at him. "Thank you," he said, bowing his head. She placed the wreath over his head and onto his shoulders like a necklace or lei.

"Now all know," she told them.

"Thank you," Jim bowed, not sure what they would know, but figured that this wreath of flowers somehow signified that he was off limits.

"My father would speak with you," she said, looking over at her father who was making gestures towards her. She offered him her hand.

"I will…I will be there shortly," Jim replied. "I must speak with my…friends."

Reniata curtseyed and walked towards her father, the woman with her shooing everyone else away from Jim and his crewmembers with a fierce frown.

"Uhura, what the hell is going on?" Jim asked when no one was within hearing distance.

"Hosiatto is a fertility festival, Captain," she started.

"Yeah, I know that," Jim said caustically. "That was in the briefing."

"Well, we didn't know that they took their…fertility to such an extent," Uhura shot back. "They've never invited off worlders to their celebration before and not all of the details were known. I only found out when one of the _banvoi_ sellers made a comment and I asked for clarification," she explained. "Apparently, during Hosiatto the women get to choose their mates for the…festivities. They spend the evening with their chosen one, celebrating the weddings, sharing food, dancing and generally worshipping Hosia, their God of the Harvest and Fertility."

"Then they retire to their homes and screw like bunnies?" McCoy added in, a grin splitting his face, before a look of horror crossed it. "Oh please tell me they go home and don't just… drop down on the green and go for it in front of everyone?"

Uhura rolled her eyes in disgust. "This is not an orgy, Doctor," she scolded. "And the roots of the festival go back thousands of years. At one time…maybe they would have, but now…it's just kind of understood that if you exchange _banvoi_, then you will be having sex that night in honor of Hosia and the continued fertility of the planet."

McCoy looked pointedly at the wreaths on Spock and Uhura's heads. "I don't want to know," he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes and shuddering.

Uhura narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't say anything.

"Well, thank you, Lieutenant from saving me from…that," Jim said. "I'd hate to get further into the night and then realize what was expected and…" he shrugged. "I wouldn't want to insult Reniata or her father, but I wouldn't…couldn't…"

"I know, Captain," Uhura interjected, this time with a bit more sympathy. "That's why I had to tell them about Marissa. They take relationships, especially those that have produced a child, very seriously. Their period of mourning is equal to their solar year. Someone in mourning is not expected to participate in Hosiatto. In fact, it's considered a bad omen if someone in mourning participates. Hosia is the God of the Harvest and Fertilty, but his wife is the Goddess of Hearth and Home. For someone to break the traditional mourning period, they would insult her and she might cause bad luck for that family."

"I can see why Reniata looked relieved when you spoke to her, then," McCoy chimed in. "If Jim had accepted he would have insulted this goddess and brought bad luck to her family. Couldn't have that, now could we?"

"Don't be so patronizing, Doctor," Uhura scolded. "These are their traditions. As you've seen, they're as capable and scientifically advanced as most other Federation members, but this is their heritage. They might not truly believe in Hosia and The Great Wife, but during the Hosiatto they follow the traditions of their ancestors."

"Yeah, and it's a great time to eat and drink and dance and screw around, all in the name of Hosia," he smirked.

"Bones," Jim chided gently. "You're one to talk. Who was the one who made me go to Mardi Gras in New Orleans our second year? Hosiatto is much tamer than that. At least the women aren't flashing us in order to collect as many wreaths as possible."

"Well," McCoy had the grace to look a bit embarrassed. Uhura just looked at him smugly, arms crossed. "Okay, I won't say anything else. But I didn't have to _make _you go," he muttered under his breath.

"Good," Jim declared, ignoring his friend. "Uhura, we need to get this into the database," he said, speaking in his captain's voice. "This is something we should have known, and future visitors should know. Can you do that?"

"Of course," she nodded. "I'll see what more I can learn and upload everything once we're back on the ship, but I think for now, Captain, you should go speak to the Prime Minister. He is waiting for you."

Jim looked over to see the Prime Minister and his wife and daughters watching them. "I'll talk to you guys later," he said as he made his way over to his host's table across from them. "Be good."

The Prime Minister and his wife were extremely apologetic and afraid that they had in some way insulted him. Jim assured them over and over that everything was fine. They didn't know about him and he didn't know about their traditions. No harm, no foul as far as Jim was concerned. Once they'd been reassured that everything was fine, the questions started. They were polite and interested, but Jim still felt uncomfortable. He didn't mind talking about Abby and all her – many – accomplishments, but it was still hard to talk about Marissa.

"For how long you…" the Prime Minister's wife, Mao Jenka, made a joining motion with her hands clasped together.

"Two years," Jim told her, ducking his head and swallowing hard. And it was almost two years exactly, he'd realized one lonely night when he couldn't sleep and memories of Marissa were keeping him company. She had told him about Abby the day after her twenty-third birthday, though he hadn't known it at the time, and she'd left for M'Qtobau just over a week after her twenty-fifth birthday. It was such a short time to be together; not nearly enough, and Jim could feel his chest tightening as it always did when he thought of Marissa and all that he was missing.

"You have big..." once again Mao Jenka swept her hands out, encompassing everything and everyone around them.

"A big?" Jim asked, looking over at her husband in question.

"A big joining ceremony," he explained. "Hosiatto is a time of many, many joinings. We will have over one hundred this night before Hosiatto ends. We are all witnesses to the happy couples."

"Oh, that's nice," Jim said, unaware that he would be witnessing that many marriages. He'd understood that it was a figurative ceremony, not an actual one. Mao Jenka was still looking at him expectantly. "No, we didn't have a big…ceremony," he told her. He didn't want to try to explain that they hadn't actually been married, but only living together. He didn't know if that would some how negate his status as a mourner and they might then expect him to participate with their daughter after all.

Terran legalities aside, Marissa had belonged to him, and he to her. And he didn't care if he waited another Ulvian year and attended another Hosiatto, he would not be ready to participate.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur for Jim. He was able to watch everything with the Prime Minister and his family, so he had a great view, but it was extremely bittersweet to watch as each couple approached their vantage point and accepted the blessing of the Prime Minister and the high priest who stood with them.

Most of the participants were around Jim's age, though there were a few extremely young couples, and one older couple that had to be approaching eighty terran years at least. And all of them were smiling. The females looked radiant in the bright gowns, flowers in their hair and around their necks. The males looked proud and proprietary as they escorted their chosen bride.

Jim could fully understand that look. He'd felt it on Stratnon as Marissa had accepted her award and then took her place at his side, and again, during the final dinner where she had stood next to him, arm in arm, for the whole evening, their relationship now out in the open. She had been his and she had shown brightly in her endeavors and he was proud of her and damn happy to call her his own, even if by terran law there was no binding contract; she'd never taken his name, never signed anything that said he was more than her captain, but in his heart he was.

Marriage hadn't mattered then, but it mattered now. He wanted that little piece of paper that said they had belonged to each other. He wanted to legally have the right to keep the things she had brought to their quarters. He wanted Marissa to always bear his name so that there was never any doubt.

But it was too late. Abby was his, there was no doubt of that. Marissa hadn't even hesitated when filling out her birth certificate, though they had never discussed it. Abby was a Kirk. Now that he thought about it, it pissed him off that somewhere in Colorado there was probably a plaque or stone with Marissa's name and no one who looked at it would know that she was…had been…his.

"How're you doing, kid?" McCoy asked, slapping him on the back and coming to stand next to him. Uhura and Spock were off dancing.

"I need a drink," Jim said honestly. "And then I want to go back to the _Enterprise_ and hold Abby."

"Not 'til tomorrow," McCoy said sympathetically. "We can probably make our good-byes for the night, but we still have that breakfast shindig tomorrow and then we can go home."

"Home, Bones?" Jim asked with a slight smile, looking over at his friend. "You start calling the _Enterprise_ home and I might start thinking you like her."

"She's a ship, not a person," McCoy growled.

"You just said she," Jim pointed out, his smile widening.

"I spend too much time with you and that damn Scot," McCoy argued. "Now let's say our good-byes and get out of here. Maybe our butler can conjure up something decent and alcoholic to drink."

"All right, let's go," Jim agreed. He'd had enough of the festivities. He didn't need any more reminders of what he didn't have.

_Please review_


	16. Chapter 16

_Author's note: I'm posting this chapter a few hours early (okay, about 12 hours) because tomorrow we will be getting up at o'god awful in the morning to begin our trek back home. We've just had a lovely time in Las Vegas and it's time to go home and face reality again. I will soon be laid up after knee surgery with orders to stay off it for a while, so hopefully I will get more written. If I can just get past a certain point I can begin posting twice week – unless you all prefer not. ;-)_

**Complications**

**Chapter 16**

**Stardate 2260.84**

"Abby!" Jim called through their quarters. "Abigail! Where are you? It's time to come out now. No hiding." He paused in the hallway, listening for any tell tale signs, like uncontrolled giggling. Still, nothing. "I swear, Abigail Rose, if you managed to get out of these quarters, I will spank your bottom," he muttered to himself.

He'd returned yesterday afternoon from his two day visit to Ulvia and Abby had been cranky and hard to control since. She obviously hadn't liked being left, even if she seemed to have been having fun with Chapel when he had called in the first night. Apparently the second night had not gone as smoothly and she had cried and thrown a tantrum until she had exhausted herself to sleep. The following morning she'd been uncooperative and grouchy and Rand had finally decided to call in the big guns – Chekov. She remained glued to the navigator until Jim had returned mid morning and while she was happy to see him, she seemed determined to punish him for being gone.

There was a muffled sound from down the hall and Jim moved on. He'd already checked her usual hiding spots in her room and his. She wasn't in his closet or hiding in the shower enclosure. She wasn't under her crib or behind her door. But she had to be somewhere.

"Abby! Come out now!" he demanded, his voice descending into what Marissa had called his 'Dada Voice.' Abby usually obeyed immediately and with a downtrodden face that made him feel victorious, if a bit guilty. Still no response. "Abigail Rose Kirk we are going to cut your fingernails today whether you want to or not. You scratched Pasha and you scratched dada and it's time."

"No," a disembodied voice replied.

Jim's head immediately cocked to the side; she was in the kitchen. Moving purposefully he went to stand in the kitchen doorway, his eyes scanning. There really weren't that many places to hide in the kitchen except the cupboards. Nothing had been displaced on the counters, and nothing was on the floor that should be stowed away, but he began methodically opening each cupboard and squatting to look inside.

"Damn it, Abby," he muttered again, hands on his hips as he looked back over the kitchen. Where the hell could she be? That was when he heard her giggle again and his eyes rose from the floor to the top of replicator and there she was, tucked behind the veluvian starlight plant Sulu had given to Marissa months ago.

"Jesus," he said, startled to see her so high up. "How the hell did you get up there?" He was already reaching for her.

"Cwimbed," she told him even as she wiggled herself further away from his grasp.

"Abby come here," Jim sighed in exasperation. He managed to get a hand on her foot, but she kicked at him and scrambled away, knocking into the plant and sending it tumbling off the replicator.

"Shit!" Jim instinctively reached for the plant, catching the pot but losing a lot of the dirt.

"Oops," Abby said, moving to look down at the mess she'd made.

Jim sighed and set what remained of the potted plant on to the counter. "Oops indeed," he said. Reaching up quickly, he pulled Abby from her perch.

She gave a screech and then did her best impression of a greased pig as she tried to wiggle and squirm out of his arms, yelling, "No! No! Don' wanna!" at the top of her lungs.

"Abigail," Jim said firmly. "Stop that right now." To his amazement, she actually did, going so boneless and heavy in his arms that he almost dropped her.

"Don' wanna," she whimpered forlornly as he carried her over to the couch where he had left the nail clippers when she had first run off.

"I know you don't want to," Jim said reasonably. "But you have to. Your nails are getting way too long and you're going to hurt someone with them."

The idea to cut her nails had come up yesterday after he had relieved Chekov of his impromptu babysitting duty. He had reached to take her from Chekov and seen the two long scratches down the young man's neck. Abby had a habit of grabbing the collar of the person carrying her, and she had accidentally scratched Chekov. When he had apologized, Chekov had just shaken his head.

"It is no problem, Keptin," he'd said with a grin. "It was an accident."

"Yeah, but…" Jim said wryly. Abby could get away with murder and Chekov would be fine with it. "Say you're sorry for scratching Pasha, munchkin."

"Sowry, Pasha," she'd said obediently, looking over at Chekov with wide eyes, as she snuggled her head under Jim's chin.

"It is okay, kotik," Chekov smiled, patting her back. "Kittens have claws."

Abby had been pretty cranky for the rest of the day, so he hadn't pushed the idea of cutting her nails then, but he had been determined to do it today on his day off, especially after she had scratched him when he had helped her get dressed this morning. Honestly, enough was enough. He didn't know when her nails had last been cut, but it could have been before Marissa had left. He certainly hadn't done it. Rand may have managed it at some point since, but they were still way too long. No wonder she'd been able to climb on top of the replicator.

"Okay, Abby-girl," he said as he sat on the couch. "What do you say we watch some Smooglies while I cut your nails?"

Abby shook her head and gave a loud sniff. "Wan' mama do it," she told him meekly, with another sniff.

Her statement was like a punch in his gut. "Oh Abby," Jim said sadly, sitting back and pulling her close. He ran his hand over her hair and placed a kiss on her forehead. "I know you do, but mama's not here, baby girl, so dada has to do it."

"Wan' mama," she said again with a sniff and then the tears started.

Jim just held her as she cried and did his best to fight the tightening of his throat. They'd had episodes like this every couple days when Marissa had first left, but they had tapered off as time had passed. Now, almost three months since Marissa had left for M'Qtobau, they hadn't had an incident like this in weeks, and not nearly as heartrending. His being gone must have triggered something in her mind.

"Abby-girl," Jim said softly, as her tears slowed down to wet hiccoughs. "Mama's not here, so dada has to be the one to cut your nails. Can I do that, please?"

"Wan' mama," she repeated. "Mama come home soon?" she looked up at him with red, shimmering eyes and Jim's heart broke again.

"No baby girl," he shook his head sadly, his voice thick. "Mama's not coming home soon." Soon is what he had told her over and over again in the first weeks that Marissa was gone. After the bombing he'd had to change his words, but the idea had stuck with Abby. In her mind, mama was always coming home soon. "Mama can't come home," he told her. "Mama loves Abby very, very much, but she's…she can't come home again." His voice broke slightly. He still couldn't bring himself to tell Abby that her mother was dead. He didn't think it was a concept Abby could even comprehend at this age, but it was also something he didn't want to admit to either. "Mama's gone, baby-girl. She loves you, but she's not coming home."

Abby sighed. "O'tay," she told him, holding out her hand. "Dada cut."

Jim gave a weak laugh as he reached for the clippers. "Thank you, munchkin," he told her, kissing the top of her head, as he took her tiny hand in his and began the process of trimming her nails. "What do you say we go get a snack after we're finished?" He could replicate something here in their quarters, but he suddenly felt the need to be around other people.

"O'tay!" Abby agreed right away, perking up immediately. "Go swimmin' den?"

"Yeah, we can go swimming afterwards," Jim told her, moving to her other hand. "We'll just take our swimsuits." He quickly finished that hand and then looked down at her. "Show me some toes." Abby frowned up at him, looking like she was about to protest. "No toes, no swimming." In no time she spun around in his lap and he had two little feet shoved in his face; Jim laughed, then grabbed one foot and raspberried it, making Abby giggle, before he started cutting again.

He wished that the idea of going swimming could wipe out his own sadness.

Abby was happily perched on his lap, slurping down chocolate and raspberry ice cream – the only snack she would accept - when McCoy walked in. He'd been having a nice chat with Sulu as he waited for Chekov to show up, but the way Jim was feeling, the more the merrier.

"Bones!" he called over to his friend. "What brings you to the mess at this time of the morning?"

"I could ask you the same thing," McCoy replied. He grabbed some tea and a fruit cup and sat down at their table, patting Abby on the head. "Ice cream for breakfast, Jim?" he asked with a raised brow.

Jim shrugged. "Bribery. Besides we've been up since 6:30. We already had breakfast hours ago. What's your excuse?"

"Hi Unca Bwones," she smiled messily.

"Good morning, Abby," McCoy smiled. "I'm covering M'Benga's shift," McCoy told them as he dug into his fruit. "He's got an experiment going so I'm working gamma for the next couple days. I could use some quiet time, as long as nothing stupid happens," he glared over at Jim.

"I'm off today," Jim said, holding up his hands and grinning. "McKenna's in charge of gamma through Friday."

"Great," McCoy rolled his eyes, "put the rookie in charge."

"We're just mapping Bones," Jim told him lightly. "Not much can go wrong. And as far as I know, Scotty doesn't have anything extracurricular going on in engineering."

"That you know of, Jim," McCoy pointed his fork at Jim. "That you know of."

Sulu laughed. "It's been pretty boring, Doc. Nothing but space and stars and gaseous anomalies and more space. I can't believe how excited astrophysics is over this area. There's nothing for lightyears. Not a damn – darn – thing. Not even a stray asteroid."

"Boring is good," McCoy nodded. Sipping his tea, he looked over at Jim. "So, what are you two doing here? Don't you have better things to do this morning than eat ice cream?"

"Probably," Jim agreed, petting Abby's head and smiling down at her. "But I thought a treat might be in order. We had a bit of a…power struggle this morning. Which reminds me, Sulu, you know that starlight plant you gave...? It took a bit of a tumble earlier. I think it's probably okay, but could you stop by and check it out?"

"Sure, captain," Sulu replied. "Can I ask what happened? I thought Mar…" he stopped himself and cleared his throat. "I thought it was up on your replicator. It's poisonous, you know?"

"I know and it was," Jim agreed. "But someone," he looked pointedly at Abby, "decided that the top of the replicator would be a good place to hide and when I tried to get her down it got knocked over. I managed to catch it, but a lot of dirt fell out."

"She climbed on top of the replicator?" McCoy asked incredulously, his cup halfway to his lips.

"She did," Jim nodded. "Scared me to death."

"I can imagine," Sulu said, pursing his lips and trying not to smile.

"Dare I ask why she decided to hide there?" McCoy asked.

"She didn't want her nails cut," Jim started to explain, but then the door to the mess slid open and Chekov walked in.

"Pasha!" Abby crowed, scrambling down from Jim's lap and pattering across the room to jump into Chekov's arms.

"Hello kotik," Chekov beamed at her, blushing as he always did when she so blatantly showed how much she liked him.

Abby's face fell and she frowned. "I no kotik," she told him sadly, followed by a suspiciously wet sniff. "I no cwaws." She buried her face in his neck and sniffed again.

Chekov looked bewilderingly over at Jim as he patted her back comfortingly. Jim tried to control his smile as he saw how panicked Chekov looked. His little girl certainly had the young man wrapped around her little finger.

"I do not understand, Keptin," Chekov looked over at him beseechingly.

"No claws," Jim clarified, but Chekov still looked confused. "I cut her nails this morning," he explained further when Chekov sat down at the table with them, Abby still hiding her face in his shoulder and probably smearing his uniform with chocolate.

"I's no kotik," Abby explained sadly. "No cwaws." She waved her little hand briefly then grabbed his collar.

Understanding seemed to dawn as Chekov looked around the table at the grinning faces of the other men. "Oh dorogoy," Chekov said softly, tilting his head so he could look down at Abby. "Not all kittens have claws," he told her. "Besides, you will always be my kotik." He smiled down at her and Jim found himself with a tight throat again.

"Rweally?" Abby asked, sitting up and smiling at him.

"Really," Chekov agreed. Reaching for Sulu's napkin, he began to wipe off the chocolate residue from around her mouth. "You are a mess, kotik. What have you been eating?"

"Chwocwate ice cweam," she told him happily. Moving around, she settled herself in her lap. "Dada cut ma figers," she told him. "An' I get ice cweam. Chwocwate rwas'berry. I wan' mama cut ma figers, but mama no'comin' home soon," she told him matter-of-factly and everyone at the table froze, their eyes on Abby and Chekov's suddenly stricken face. "Rwigh' dada?" Abby turned to look at Jim. "Mama no' comin' home soon?"

"Right baby girl," Jim said, his voice hoarse. He could feel everyone's eyes on him now, but he could only look at Abby. "Mama's not coming home."

"Dada come home," Abby stated.

Jim nodded. "Yes, I did." He didn't know what else to say.

"Dada come home, but mama no comin' home," Abby nodded, as if she accepted the fact. "Bu' mama wuvs me, Pasha," she told him with a brilliant smile.

"Yes kotik," Chekov replied thickly. "Your mama loves you very much."

"Yup!" Abby declared, smiling brightly at everyone at the table, not registering the sudden sadness that had come over everyone's face. "An' den we go swimmin', rwigh' dada?"

"Yes, baby girl, we'll go swimming," Jim agreed. "Are you done with your ice cream?" He held out her bowl and she paused, having to think about it apparently. There was a little bit left, mostly melted, but she shook her head.

"Awl dun," she told him. "Les' go swimmin'. You come Pasha," she said, hoping off Chekov's lap and grabbing his hand.

"Uh, Abby," Jim said, trying not to grin. "Pasha might have other plans."

She turned and faced them, her hands on her hips and her lower lip beginning to trembling. "I want Pasha!"

"Captain?" Uhura's voice interrupted Abby's brewing temper tantrum.

"Yes, Lieutenant," Jim responded, frowning at his daughter in warning.

"You have an incoming transmission from Earth. It's Hadden Fischer."

Sitting back in his chair, Jim let out a woosh of breath, his stomach suddenly in knots. He knew that the preliminary hearing was either today or tomorrow depending on the judge's schedule. If he was contacting him now was it good news, or bad news, or no news at all? And what was he going to do with Abby?

He could feel the eyes of all three men on him now, Abby's little drama forgotten. They all knew how important this transmission was.

"Captain, shall I patch it through to your quarters or to your ready room?" Uhura prodded him.

"Yes, to my quarters," he replied, having to clear his throat. "Please. Thank you, Lieutenant. Tell him I will be right with him."

His eyes wide, Jim looked over at McCoy, not at all surprised to see the worry in his friend's eyes too. This could be it. After weeks of waiting he was going to find out if Matthew's stupid custody case was over before it began or if Jim was going to have to fight him and let his and Abby's lives become fodder for the courts.

"Keptin," Chekov spoke softly, interrupting Jim's wildly spinning thoughts. "Sulu and I will take kotik swimming."

"Yeah!" Abby clapped, her budding tantrum gone without a trace.

"Are you sure?" Jim asked, even though it would be the easiest option. He trusted Chekov with Abby implicitly. It would be so much easier to deal with whatever Hadden had to say if he didn't have to worry about Abby overhearing or interrupting.

"Da," Chekov nodded, looking over at Sulu who was nodding too. "We will be fine."

"But you just… didn't you just get off shift?"

"It was only a partial shift. I am not tired," Chekov demurred. "A swim would be nice, yes, Kotik?" he looked over at Abby and smiled.

"Da, Pasha!" she bounced on her toes, already grabbing her bag with her towel and swimsuit from beside her chair.

"Okay," Jim agreed. "Thanks guys. I appreciate this. I probably won't need too long. Whatever he has to say…" Jim trailed off and shrugged, before turning to Abby. "You be good Abby-girl. Listen to Pasha and Sulu and do not go into the water until they say it's okay? Do you understand?" he asked sternly. Abby loved swimming and she had no fear. Jim blamed Chris Pike who had taught Abby how to float and swim underwater while they were on Stratnon. She would jump into the water without any hesitation, confident that she'd be fine, which she usually was. It just tended to scare the crap out of her father.

"Yes, dada," she immediately replied, looking up at him angelically.

"That's a Kirk look if I've ever seen one," McCoy chuckled.

Jim smiled. "You'd think I'd be immune. All right, I'll see you after your swim. Be good." He got a quick kiss goodbye before Abby grabbed Chekov and started leading him out of the cafeteria he could just hear the young man protesting that he needed to get his swimsuit as the door swooshed closed behind them.

"So," McCoy said, looking expectantly at Jim. "Do you want company?"

"Yes, no…" Jim hesitated. McCoy had just come off gamma shift and though the hours were the same as any other shift, it was always harder to adjust to overnights. "I…"

"I ain't goin' to be able to sleep until I know," McCoy told him. "I might as well tag along and just find out myself. Then I'll go back to my quarters."

"Assuming it's good news," Jim replied sullenly, leading the way to his quarters.

"It can't be anything but," McCoy stated.

"Never thought of you as an optimist, Bones," Jim huffed.

"I'm not. I'm a realist," he replied, "and the judge is not going to take Abby away. O'Donnell has no case."

"I hope so," Jim muttered as he entered his quarters.

McCoy walked in behind him and sat down on the couch. "I'll be right here," he told Jim. "I can hear well enough, but you can close the door if you need to."

Jim paused in the doorway to his office. "Thanks Bones, I…"

"Get on with ya," McCoy waved him off. "Your ambulance chaser is waiting for you. It ain't cheap to call this far."

Jim smirked, turning around and walking over to his desk. "His name his Hadden Fischer, Bones. He's a good guy." From his chair he could see McCoy looking over the back of the couch.

"Let's wait and see what he says," McCoy replied. "If he gives us good news I'll consider calling him by his name."

Jim shook his head, a wry smile on his face as he reached for the comm. switch. The screen flickered for a second and then the visage of Hadden Fischer came on, his smile dazzling, which did something to relieve the knots in Jim's stomach.

"Captain Kirk," the other man said, "I have some really amazing news for you."

The knots loosened even further. "That's great. I could really use some good news."

"Yes, sir," Fischer nodded, his head bobbing like one of those old toys. He was so young, Jim thought, and not for the first time. He actually was only a year or two younger than Jim, but his unguarded smiles and enthusiasm made him seem younger. "I've just come from the hearing in Denver with Mr. O'Donnell and his lawyer, Mr. Smee." He paused for dramatic effect.

"And?" Jim encouraged him, catching McCoy rolling his eyes in disgust from the living area.

"The judge threw out the case," he replied, his smile widening, if that was even possible. The man must have iron facial muscles. "Insufficient evidence, no clear evidence of danger to the child's well-being, no clear evidence of neglect – in short, there is no reason for Mr. O'Donnell to remove Abby from your custody."

Jim let out a relieved breath. "Well, we always knew that, but I'm glad the judge agreed with us." Looking away from his screen he saw McCoy grinning smugly at him before crossing his hands behind his head and laying out fully on the couch. Jim couldn't help but smirk at the doctor's nonchalance.

"Exactly."

"I take it the testimony of the crewmembers we submitted was enough then?" he asked, turning back to the lawyer.

Fischer shook his head and then shrugged. "The judge never specified the data on which he based the decision. But there are no real grounds for an appeal. If one is made, however, the documents and recordings we have are admissible and in my opinion no further evidence should be needed."

"Thank you, Hadden," Jim replied, allowing himself to smile.

"You are welcome," Fischer responded. "And let me just say that I have been honored to help you in this matter. You're my first real case and I'm glad we were successful."

"Me too, Hadden, me too," Jim agreed whole heartedly. He'd known that Fischer was young, but he hadn't realized he'd never handled a case before. "You did a good job. Uh, how long have you been out of law school, if you don't mind me asking?"

"About two years," Fischer told him jovially. "I've been working as a research assistant to a couple different lawyers in the JAG. I've written a few arguments, but I've never run my own case. This was kind of exciting and I learned a ton, not that I mean to take advantage of your situation or in any way…"

Jim held up a hand. "It's okay, Hadden, I totally understand. It's a bit different when it's all your own."

"Exactly, Captain," Fischer agreed. "I imagine you understand that better than most."

"That I do," Jim smiled. Was he ever this green and…overenthusiastic? Hadden seemed like such a puppy. "I do have a question for you."

"Shoot," Fischer immediately replied, leaning towards his view screen.

"Now that we're done with all this nonsense, I need to, well, I need to set up my will so that if something happens to me Abby is taken care of," Jim explained.

"I take it you don't want her to go to your in-laws?" Fischer asked.

"Technically they aren't my in-laws," Jim pointed out, "but no, I don't really want Abby going to them should something happen to me. It's not that I think they would be bad guardians or that I'm doing this just because Matthew filed suit against me. It's just not the environment I would want my daughter raised in. Can you do this for me, or can you recommend someone?"

"Oh, I can do it," Fischer smiled, nodding again. "I spent my first year in the JAG working in the estate planning division because that's were I'd interned during my summer vacations. It's pretty boring, but it pays the bills. I can whip something up for you, no problem."

"That would be great," Jim told him. "I really don't like the idea of having to do this, but as has been pointed out to me, it has to be done. And I want Abby with someone who would raise her as we…I mean, as I would; someone who knows her and loves her and who she loves."

"I totally understand. It's an important decision," Fischer nodded sagely. "I'll send you a couple questionnaires to fill out that will help get things started, but first…I'm assuming that the possible person, or people, that you would want Abby to go to are on the _Enterprise_?"

"Well, yes," Jim agreed. "My first choice is Leonard McCoy."

"Not to be too depressing, but what if something happens to the _Enterprise_, or to you and Mr. McCoy, and Abby survives? Do you have any friends or relatives that you would want Abby to go to in that situation?"

"Marissa's best friend is on Starbase 17, she'd take Abby," Jim answered.

"Okay," Fischer nodded. "Anyone else not in Starfleet? It is a dangerous profession. Not nearly as bad as a few generations ago, but it's best to have all your bases covered; worst case scenario, you know?"

"Yeah, I understand," Jim said thoughtfully, not looking at the screen any longer. "I do have a brother. He has a wife and three little boys, but…we aren't that close. We're getting closer, but…"

"Like I said, Captain, worse case scenario," Fischer interrupted. "Make a list of who you would entrust Abby to, and we'll go from there. I'm assuming you'd also like to set up the distribution of your finances and property."

"Well, there isn't much of that," Jim laughed; "property, I mean," he added at Fischer's incredulous look. "I've got a solid bank account and all that. Starfleet pretty much covers room and board, so I don't have many expenses. But everything I have should go to Abby."

"I figured as much. Like I said, I'll send you some questionnaires and they should help you. If you have any questions, you can always contact me. I really don't have anything else on my slate for now. I have a debriefing with Admiral Collins tomorrow, but no new cases. My luck, I'll be back in the admin pool," he added somewhat dejectedly. "Still, this was an awesome experience; getting to meet and work with you and your crewmembers."

The puppy was back and Jim had to smile, despite the sudden knotting in his stomach again. "Debriefing with Collins," Jim said casually, "seems you are moving up in the world, Hadden. He surely doesn't debrief every lawyer after every case. After all, this was just a basic custody case, right?"

"True, it was pretty open and shut," Fischer agreed, "but he did take an interest in it. He asked to look over some of my primary evidence. You're getting only the best, Captain. The commander of the JAG himself was watching over your case. He seemed to know a lot about it when we talked briefly last week."

"He did, huh?" Jim asked, trying not to sound suspicious. "Do you spend much time with Collins, Hadden?"

"No sir," Fischer responded immediately. "To tell you the truth, it was rather intimidating. That was only the second time I have ever seen him. He's in the main office at Starfleet and I'm out here in the branch in Sausalito, although we get communiqués from the head office constantly. I only saw him at my induction ceremony with about 150 others who had passed the bar."

"And he asked you about the hearing? Is this something he does often? Visiting other branches of the JAG?"

"I have no idea," Fischer told him. "He's never come to this office since I've been here. And I don't know about other cases. We mostly do research here. I did think it was strange for the admiral to take so much interest in a custody case, but he didn't say anything much aside from, 'Good job, Fischer,' and ask a few questions about the primary evidence he'd looked over," the young man blushed. "Maybe, maybe I'm going to finally start getting my own cases and he wanted to make sure I was ready."

"I'm sure that's probably the case," Jim reassured him.

"Or maybe," Fischer seemed to reign in his enthusiasm, "you're such a high profile person, he wanted to make sure I wasn't going to mess everything up for you."

"You did a fine, job," Jim told him. "I'm sure the admiral was just being…conscientious. You were great and I'm thankful for all you did. I'll look forward to getting those forms from you. I'd like to get my will taken care of as soon as possible."

"Yes, captain," Fischer began nodding. "You're very welcome. If there's ever anything else…"

Jim hesitated. There was the whole internal affairs investigation, but if Fischer had heard about it he certainly would have said something. The young man didn't seem to have much of a filter. Jim was pretty sure Admiral Collins didn't want anyone knowing he'd looked over the case. "You'll be the first person I contact," Jim replied. "Take care, Hadden. Kirk out."

Jim rested his head on his seat back for a moment trying to collect his churning thoughts. Standing up he went over to McCoy only to find him snoring softly.

"Bones, hey, Bones," he nudged his friend.

"Wha? Huh?" the man looked up at him blearily.

"Case is done, we won, why don't you go to bed?" Jim told him. "I don't mind you crashing out here, but Abby will be back eventually."

"Yeah, yeah," McCoy said as he sat up. "Anything else?"

"Hadden said a couple things about Collins, but it's nothing we can't talk about later," Jim said, leading him to the door. "I'm going to talk to Spock. Stop by before you go on shift and I'll catch you up."

"Sounds good," McCoy managed to mumble, still not fully awake. "Night, Jim."

"Night, Bones. See you later."

McCoy waved briefly over his shoulder as he made his way to his quarters. Jim immediately turned towards the lift that would take him to the bridge. Once there he saw that Spock was involved in some calculations, so Jim stood just behind and to his right as he surveyed the bridge, waiting for Spock to finish.

"Yes, Captain?" Spock asked once he'd completed his calculations. As he stood, he automatically straightened his tunic. "Was there something you wanted?"

"Walk with me," Jim nodded his head towards the exit to the bridge.

The two men sauntered around the upper level of the saucer as Jim told Spock of the judge's decision in Colorado, then the tidbit Hadden had let slip of Admiral Collins showing up at his branch office before the hearing and asking to see some of the evidence that he had submitted to the judge.

"Indeed," Spock responded thoughtfully. "There is more to this than meets the eye, Captain. Shall I inform Sarek of this?"

Jim nodded once. "Just tell him so that he knows everything. I think I'll comm. Pike. He said he wanted to know how things were going and if there were any strange bumps along the way. I mean, he suspected Collins started the whole internal investigation against me, but after hearing this… It has to be him. The timing is almost too perfect. I think this could definitely be considered a bump."

"Sarek, too, has expressed the opinion that the difficulties being directed toward you are too numerous to be pure chance."

"Did he?" Jim looked over at Spock. "Yeah, I guess random chance was bypassed long ago. Thanks Spock."

"My pleasure, Captain," Spock replied as the continued down the corridor.

_Please Review_


	17. Chapter 17

**Complications**

**Chapter 17**

After leaving the Hosiatta Festival on Ulvia it took the _Enterprise_ only two days to reach the Federation outpost on Lehcorwen as ordered by The Admiralty. Once there, aside from taking on supplies and several new crewmembers, they were picking up the Internal Affairs auditor and, much to Jim's surprise, their new xenohistorian.

It felt uncomfortably like jumping from the frying pan into the fire. He had managed to dodge the whole custody issue, but now he was faced with an internal audit of his ship and command style, while faced with a new reminder that Marissa was gone.

Both of these incipient passengers bothered Jim. The mere presence of the IA auditor implied that something was wrong with the interactions and day to day lives of the crew of the _Enterprise_, with the most likely implication being that the Captain was at fault. But the presence of the xenohistorian was even harder to deal with. It was like a stake through Jim's heart, because it meant that someone, some new person, would be on the ship doing Marissa's job. It was the final nail in the coffin, so to speak, and he simultaneously resented and mourned the reason for it.

Upon docking at Lehcorwen, Jim, Mr. Spock, and Commander Scott formally requested permission to meet with the outpost's commander in order to officially greet the new xenohistorian and the IA auditor. The degree of solemnity with which this occurred was indicative of the seriousness of the situation. IA auditors were not dispatched randomly and everyone knew it. Only if sufficient evidence had been presented did Starfleet open and pursue an investigation. The fact that it was the flagship and Starfleet's golden boy under scrutiny had to be raising eyebrows on the outpost. And if none of the men seemed thrilled to meet the new xenohistorian, they did their best to hide it.

The auditor did not seem overwhelmingly intimidating at first sight. A small man, Paul Greene had thinning red hair combed over a bald spot, yellowed teeth and several large moles on his face. It was rare in the 23rd century that a person would willingly face others with such disfigurements that could be easily fixed. Obviously the man wasn't concerned with the impression he made when meeting new people.

This did not bode well for Jim. His hackles automatically rose upon meeting Commander Greene. The assistant accompanying the Commander cast an even more unpleasant tone. Lieutenant Gene Terry was pudgy, pale-faced, and wore thick black-rimmed glasses and carried an enormous satchel holding numerous PADDs. Accustomed as he was to sleek, well exercised and battle-honed Starfleet crewmembers, the sight of these two desk bound bureaucrats frightened Jim more than the original Internal Affairs accusations had. He instinctively knew that his usual charm and humor would not work with these people.

Holding out his hand, Jim tried not to flinch as he shook Greene's cold, sweaty hand. His smile was pasted on, but he didn't think the two men noticed. This was not going to be fun.

It was the introduction to the new xenohistorian that caused Jim even more consternation. Given that he had recently almost been charged with sexual harassment of a crewmember, Jim was hyper-sensitive to potential female danger zones and this woman should have had a sign that said 'Danger Jim Kirk! Keep away!' around her neck. Another one of the blonde model versions so characteristic of the typical 'beautiful woman' title, Lieutenant Veronique Meredith was a stunner and definitely someone Jim would have been interested in the past – before Marissa.

He'd only had half a day to read up on his new crewmember, but Jim was unwillingly impressed. He knew she was pretty from her crew dossier, but he hadn't known how stunning she really was. But not only beautiful, she was reported to be an up and coming mind in her field and gifted linguistically; not quite to Uhura's standards, but pretty darn close. Until her assignment to the _Enterprise_ she'd been working with a group of Bajoran refugees on Glackous IV.

The golden goddess wafted into the room to be introduced to the senior officers of the _Enterprise_. She wore the short skirt uniform that fit her body like a glove and displayed legs that seemed to go on forever. Her boots brought her almost eye to eye with Jim; eyes that he couldn't help noticing were a stunning green, contrasting nicely with her blue uniform. She politely bid farewell to the outpost commander and thanked him for her pleasant stay on the Lehcorwen post, her voice smooth and smoky. However she looked, her demeanor and comments to the commander were all that were to be expected from one professional to another, as were her introductory comments to the men from the _Enterprise_. She greeted Spock in flawless Shi-Kahr Vulcan, and thanked Jim in good mid-western North Americanese.

Pleasantries done, the detail from Security that had accompanied Kirk, Spock and Scotty left with the new passengers to return to the _Enterprise_ and escort them to their quarters. Scotty left too, heading for the supply section of the outpost to oversee the transfer of goods that had been ordered. Jim and Spock thanked the outpost commander for their welcome and exchanged news from around the galaxy until the commander was called away. Spock was planning to rendezvous with Uhura for a short excursion to the outpost's bazaar, which left Jim alone and with nothing to do. Grabbing his comm. he contacted McCoy hoping to meet up with him somewhere. Luckily his friend was available and already on the outpost.

Within a few minutes Jim entered the cantina that McCoy had staked out and easily spotted his friend across the bar with two substantial steins of amber liquid in front of him on the table.

"You're not going to drink them both, are you?" Jim asked as he sat down at the table.

Not even acknowledging his arrival, Bones thrust a mug into Jim's hands and took a big gulp of his own. "This is good stuff, Jim," he informed him. "They brew it here on the station with stuff they grow in their greenhouses. How come we can't get Sulu to sprout something worthwhile like this for us?"

Happily sampling his own beer, Jim thought about it. "I don't see why not. The place is big enough and they could do it hydroponically if nothing else." He took another drink. It was really good beer. "Scotty's still makes some fine liquor, so surely we could build a small brewery. This could be my future, you know Bones," he said, lifting his mug. "If that IA jerk finds enough to hang me I could go into beer making. I'd rather drown in a vat of hops and barley than rot on a Federation prison planet."

Picking up on Jim's morose mood, McCoy offered him a wicked smile as he took another drink. "Maybe this is a good time to make our getaway. I know some of these trader captains would sign us up – we might not even have to pay them. Just run off and let them audit the ship as long as they want. Fuck 'em. And fuck Starfleet for doing this."

Jim looked questioningly into his drink and then over at McCoy. "How much have you had to drink, Bones?" he asked with a grin.

McCoy waved a dismissive hand. "It's good stuff and I'm off duty."

"Well, I doubt Abby would like it on board one of those merchant ships," Jim stated. "Unless we could talk Chekov into leaving with us. And he'd never go unless Sulu did, so…that'd be half of the command crew right there."

"Spock could run the ship," McCoy declared. "Or better yet, Uhura. Now there's a woman who knows how to command."

Jim grinned into his beer. He wasn't going to touch that comment. "I doubt the traders would want a toddler in the way."

McCoy set down his drink and looked at Jim, affronted. "She's adorable. Everyone loves Abby, even trader captains."

Jim shook his head, fighting the smile that was trying to break out. McCoy was so entertaining when he got drunk on beer. It was totally different than when he got drunk on bourbon or whiskey. "No, I gotta go back and face whatever's coming. Maybe we'll get lucky and meet up with a Klingon brigade looking for a fight."

Holding up his mug in a toast, McCoy grinned maniacally. "Oh what a pity! Especially if they happen to take out the deck that Mr. Fancy-pants Internal Investigator is on and he gets vaporized by their photon cannons!"

"That would be a shame," Jim agreed solemnly, clinking his glass against McCoy's. Seriously, he had to look into brewing some beer on the ship. McCoy was hilarious. He should probably wait until the auditors left before he started looking into the logistics, though. They probably wouldn't approve at all.

They finished their drinks and although another round would have been nice, Jim decided that McCoy had had enough and he was feeling pleasantly buzzed. To clear their heads they strolled through the bazaar looking at the different items for purchase from this region of the galaxy, but nothing really appealed enough to buy. McCoy considered a cute doll to send back to Joanna, but decided he wasn't sure of her preferences now or if she even still played with dolls.

Jim saw a few things in the same shop that Abby might like, but decided she had enough toys. He knew he'd have to do some serious shopping for some new clothes soon, since she was rapidly out-growing the things Marissa had bought her on Stratnon, but he wasn't ready to take on that task just yet. Marissa had always seen to Abby's clothes and the idea of shopping for toddler clothes by himself was intimidating as hell. Once again he longed for Marissa's presence at his side.

Eventually they made their way back to the ship, each going their separate way once on board. Jim went straight to the bridge and checked in with the lieutenant who had remained in command in order to check the status of the supply transfer and the number of crewmembers not yet back on the _Enterprise_. Those not present were commed and within an hour the _Enterprise_ received departure clearance, undocked and was on its way to Granvillia, where the new xenohistorian would begin earning her keep.

This would be the first official contact for the Granvillians by a Federation representative. All previous contacts with the Federation had been done over subspace. They had apparently applied to the Federation for consideration to become members months ago. The planet had been specified as open for contact on all levels for a few years, but Starfleet had never managed to send out an official representative, which seemed strange to Jim, seeing what the planet had to offer and that they were actually asking to join. But he took the better late than never stand.

What was odd was that they'd received this assignment through Admiral Pinello, who oversaw the Starfleet shipyards, rather than Dekker, but it was an official assignment and the _Enterprise_ went where it was told.

Although communications had been cordial with them so far, Ensign Meredith would have her work cut out for her in preparing for this visit. The Granvillians worshipped their sun god and all language involved some reference to the deity. This made for long, involved and tedious conversations. However, their planet was rich in the quasi-mineral spinosadite, which was essential for the efficient exchange of oxygen for carbon dioxide in a ship's life support system, which probably explained Admiral Pinello's interest. Ensign Meredith would need to be completely prepared upon their arrival in four days.

Given that it was only mid afternoon ship's time, Jim commed Commander Greene asking if the man had been given all the assistance he needed.

"Yes, thank you, Captain," he responded politely, his voice gratingly high. "I will need access to all departments and appointments to interview all department heads and other crewmembers of my choosing. When might we set up the schedule?"

"I believe that my First Officer Mr. Spock has already made up a schedule for you," Jim told him. "He probably sent it to your comm. unit's text panel. You are more than welcome to edit it as you see fit, just let Mr. Spock know so he can contact whoever is needed."

"Ah, yes," Greene said in surprise. "Very nice. Well then, Captain, I shall look forward to seeing you at 0730 hours tomorrow. Good evening."

Thumbing off the comm. unit, Jim's only thought was; _what the fuck? I'm on first thing?_ "Damn it Spock," he muttered under his breath. Getting Abby up and dressed and off to daycare took a good while and she was not a happy early riser when forced. Nor was he, lately, but this was just another hoop to jump through, so he would do it cheerfully, happily, and responsibly. Damn it.

xXx

Abby was on fire all evening. She had so much energy, even after a full day in daycare that Jim decided to take her to the pool and work on her swimming, despite feeling exhausted. Although less than two years old, she had no fear of the water and was pretty darn efficient. When she was a tiny baby Marissa would take her along while she swam her daily laps, leaving Abby on the deck strapped in her baby chair, but then taking her into the water after her workout and letting her splash and play. Jim would come join them sometimes and Abby quickly learned to 'swim' between her mom and dad. She hadn't really attempted to swim on her own until Admiral Pike had shown her the fun of jumping in when they'd been on Stratnon. Jim knew she could float and dog paddle, but she needed to learn more than that to give him any peace of mind.

Luck was with Jim this evening for not only were Chekov and Sulu there to swim 'laps', but Lieutenant Daugherty had just finished and was lounging on a deck chair reading. Abby was thrilled to see all her friends in one spot and jumped into the water immediately before Jim could restrain her. Fortunately Chekov was there to support her and keep her afloat. Once Jim had turned off the jets, he joined them.

He had brought a small sphere to play with. Although it was made of openwork tracery, it was so low in density that it floated. The struts and whorls made it perfect for little hands to grasp and throw and he had planned to have a game of catch with Abby. Being her charming – and demanding – self, Abby had soon recruited all her friends to have a big circle of pass the ball. Again luck was on his side as all the throwing and catching and swimming between the adults quickly wore the toddler out. She almost nodded off in his arms during their short trip back to their quarters and no mention was made of a bath, story or song. Once she was dry and in her jammies, she went straight to sleep.

Jim breathed a sigh of relief as he stared down at his peaceful child. This parenting thing was exhausting. Once he'd dried himself and changed into sleep clothes he went to his office data center and began to scroll through away team reports and shore leave rosters for the last two and a half years. Included in the software were cumulative reports of shore leave apportioned to all crewmembers by rank and by department. His quick review showed no apparent favoritism given to any crewmember, or at least none that he could see.

Away team assignments were based on need and skills, so he could see no obvious skewing of the numbers there either.

He was aware that comments had been made on Marissa's return to duty after Abby's birth, so he specifically looked over the hours she had logged during that time. McCoy had put her on five days sick leave after Abby had been born, but on the sixth day Marissa had held a five-way conference with the _Antares_ as they prepared to visit Bocelpa, one of the planets featured in the first version of Marissa's database. After that she had been on half-time medical leave for the next two weeks, but her schedule remained filled from then on. He could see no reason for any criticism or accusation of favoritism to be leveled by anyone, yet Marissa seemed the obvious target for an investigation since they had been involved.

Moving on, he pulled up Ensign Amy Tenial's work schedule and found several cases of trading duty with others in her department. It was obvious that she would find ways to have coworkers cover for her, especially after shore leaves and stopovers at starbases. He had reviewed her records before, but as all the shift changes had been done with the knowledge of her department head and the proper paperwork had been filled out, he hadn't done anything. He knew of the reports of insubordination and one serious accusation of dereliction of duty from her commander that had become part of her record, so to find anomalies in her work schedule did not surprise him. But again, he could see no difference in her allotted shore leave or work schedule as compared to any of her coworkers.

The duty rosters of Security showed overtime by virtually all the members, but there was definitely a pattern to it; each burst of overtime correlated exactly with the _Enterprise's_ visiting of a new planet. Medical had much the same results, as did Engineering. Cartography, Botany and Astrophysics had numbers within reasonable boundaries, but the ancillary services of the food, cleaning and laundry sectors were a bit higher than they should be.

Jim wondered if this might be a red flag for the auditor and scanned the reports carefully, but saw no one person having any hours out of the ordinary. Still, he was going to have to talk to the quartermaster. Those crewmembers should be working consistent forty hour weeks. They weren't considered 'on call' crewmembers like most officers, security, medical, and command and bridge personnel. If they needed to supplement those departments, then they needed to put in a request for more personnel sooner rather than later.

Smothering a yawn, Jim stretched and then shut of his computer. Apparently swimming had worked its wonders on him as well and he gave up doing any further research before his meeting in the morning. Quickly brushing his teeth, he fell into bed.

He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, dreaming of Marissa picking out clothes for a baby boy.

xXx

Jim shuffled slowly into McCoy's office, poured himself a cup of coffee from McCoy's special brewer, and slumped into the visitors chair with a heavy sigh. It had been a hell of a morning. He'd woken to his alarm at 0600, his heart pounding as if he'd just run a race, his body covered in sweat and his muscles tense. He'd fallen asleep quickly last night, a rare occurrence, since he normally tossed and turned or stayed up researching M'Qtobau until his eyes could no longer remain open, but the swimming had worn him out as much as it had Abby.

He remembered a vague dream of Marissa and blue baby clothes and Abby playing on a piano that dwarfed her tiny body, but then his dreams had morphed. There were vague images still in his mind, but he shied away from them. Those dreams hadn't been pleasant and had plagued him until his alarm sounded.

Abby was her usual grumpy-morning self and getting her ready for daycare had taken more of toll on Jim's mood than usual. He was just so tired, mentally and physically, and he was not looking forward to his interview with Commander Greene. He managed a cup of coffee and some toast, grabbing an apple as he went out the door practically dragging Abby to daycare while she whined about not wanting to go and wanting to see Pasha. They made it halfway to daycare before she let out a shriek and began to cry that she had left Sehlat behind. Knowing she'd never make it through the day without her favorite toy, they hurried back to their quarters. The daycare was only three levels away, but they were still running late and Jim barely made it to his ready room before Greene and his lackey showed up, his apple still uneaten.

From there followed almost four hours of questions and noncommittal hums and complacent looks as Lieutenant Terry typed furiously into a PADD and Greene made written comments in his paper notebook at random times. Jim could not get a bead on what these men were looking for and it was driving him crazy. He was used to being able to read people and understand where they were coming from and what they wanted from him, but both men were like blank pages. They asked questions and asked for clarification; they skipped from topic to topic never letting Jim relax and settle into a dialogue with them.

Of course Marissa came up. The probably spent at least half of the interview discussing Marissa and her duties and her schedule, and also Abby's daily schedule and needs. Jim felt constantly on the defensive, though he knew that would be like blood in the water to these IA sharks. He kept reminding himself that he had done nothing wrong, at least not on purpose, and that if someone would just fucking tell him what he should do - what procedures he should follow in regards to Abby and being a single parent and captain, he would do it.

"Captain Kirk," Greene had asked at one point, his eyes focused on his notebook as he unconsciously pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Tell me, how do you compensate the crewmembers who watch over your daughter? From the looks of your schedule over the past three weeks and compared to the hours of the daycare center, there were forty-two hours when someone other than yourself or the daycare had to watch over Abigail - unless you left her alone in your quarters."

"Of course I didn't leave her alone," Jim replied indignantly. "She's not even two!"

"Then during those forty-two hours…who do you have watch over Abigail?" Greene prompted.

Jim shrugged. A bit bewildered. He honestly hadn't realized that the hours he needed others to watch over her had added up to that much. "I guess… whoever might be available. Bones, Dr. McCoy watches her sometimes. And Janice Rand, my yeoman. There are a couple of ladies from cartography and the library who are…were friends of Marissa's, that don't mind. Lieutenant Uhura is available sometimes, as is Ensign Chekov and Nurse Chapel," he shrugged uncomfortably.

"And these crewmembers, they also have full time jobs?"

"Of course they do," Jim answered. "Everyone on this ship does."

Greene nodded, making a note on his PADD. "Then I will ask you again; how do you compensate these crewmembers, who already have full time jobs, and who also watch over your daughter because you are unavailable?"

"I, uh, I guess, I uh… I don't," Jim finally replied, feeling like an ass. "I didn't realize that she spent that much time with other people when she wasn't in daycare or with me. It's normally only an hour or two at a time…"

"And you don't believe that those hours are valuable to your crewmembers who already work full time, if not more, in some cases?" Greene asked, his tone was flat, but Jim felt like the man was judging him.

"Of course not," Jim responded immediately. "It's not like that. I…"

"You are taking advantage of your crewmembers in order to see that your child is taken care of," Greene stated. "You are not compensating them, you say. Not giving better shifts or shore leave rotation? Using your position…"

"Now wait a minute," Jim protested, his face red as he gripped the arms of his chair and stopped himself from leaping over his desk and throttling the arrogant man in front of him. "It's not like that at all! Look," he ran a hand through his hair, trying to remain calm and rational. "I…we…Marissa and I didn't plan on becoming parents, but it happened. And nobody expected Marissa to… for things to happen on M'Qtobau; for Marissa to not come back. I'm trying to adjust. I'm trying to do what's best for everyone… the ship and Abby. Yes, my friends and coworkers watch Abby when I can't. I ask them, or they volunteer. I in no way coerce them or force them to. If they have plans; if they don't or can't watch Abby, then I ask someone else. Hell, half the time Rand has arranged something before I even know I need it. And I don't trade favors. It has never even fucking crossed my mind.

"The only compensation I've given, and I admit it's not nearly enough," Jim said, calming down slightly, "are some gifts that I've picked up while on shore leave or visiting planets."

"Such as," Greene asked.

Jim shrugged. "I got Bones, Dr. McCoy, some whiskey he likes, and Rand a Clorisean silk shawl. Chapel and Uhura have a thing for shoes, so I set up a purchase certificate at a shoe store on Starbase 56 when we visited. I got Chekov some vodka and a couple books in Russian and Sulu a rare plant from Cardassia. Just things that I've seen that I thought they'd like in thanks for all that they've done for me and Abby."

"I see," Greene said, annoyingly noncommittal.

"Look, there's nothing about this situation in any of the manuals, okay? It wasn't covered at the Academy," Jim said huffily. "I'm just trying to figure things out and it hasn't even been three months. If you have any suggestions, any at all, I'm all for it. I don't like feeling that I'm taking advantage of my friends and crewmembers."

Greene perked up at this and Terry began typing furiously. That was definitely the wrong thing to say.

"Not that they think I'm taking advantage of them," Jim backtracked. "I've asked. And I try to make sure that, that not any one person is… watching Abby too much. I've thought about…about trying to requisition someone who can…maybe watch Abby when I can't. Like a nanny or something. Someone who can work in the daycare and be available other times, but I don't know how that would work; if I can get someone to do that. I don't know what the regulations are and I haven't really had time to look into it."

"Captain Kirk, I have to ask," Greene said, sitting back in his seat and looking condescendingly at Jim over his glasses. "Do you honestly think you can be both a good captain and a parent?"

"Yes," Jim agreed instantly, his blood starting to boil again. "I'm still trying to figure things out, but yes, I believe I can."

"I see," Greene said, once again nodding and jotting down something on his PADD. "Let's get back to shore leave rotation," he changed topics. "You say Commander Spock is mostly in charge. What input do you…"

And so the interview, more like an interrogation, continued. The one good thing that came out of it was Greene's suggestion of keeping a babysitting time sheet and paying each crewmember on a weekly basis for the hours that they watched Abby. Jim thought it was actually a brilliant idea and was shocked that he hadn't come up with it first. It assuaged some of the guilt he felt relying on his friends to help him watch Abby, and it allowed him to track their hours so no one person was being over burdened.

But still, after almost four hours of questions and answers and feeling judged, Jim was exhausted. Though it wasn't even noon, he wanted nothing more than a stiff drink, so he'd wandered down to medical hoping that McCoy would take pity on him and offer him something from his 'secret' stash. Drinking alone in his quarters was not a good idea; and he really didn't want to be in his ready room any longer, even if Greene and his chubby minion had moved on to another victim.

McCoy looked over at his friend who had just entered his office without a by-your-leave. That wasn't an unusual occurrence. Jim was always dropping by Medical when the mood struck him, sometimes with Abby, sometimes alone, but normally not in the middle of his shift; and normally not with such a look of misery on his face. He could hear the usual sound of Medical just outside the door, which let him know he wasn't needed there. He was needed right here, with his friend.

Jim had lately become morose, withdrawn, and sometimes even forgetful, though he did his best to put a good façade on it. During the first weeks after Marissa's death he had been irritable; distancing himself from everyone. Especially anyone who tried to speak to him about Marissa and what happened on M'Qtobau. It took some tough love and even tougher words for McCoy to pull him out of that funk and return to some semblance of the Jim Kirk the crew of the _Enterprise_ loved. But since then, with everything piling up against him – a child custody suit, the threat of sexual harassment suit, the insubordination charges that were now in his permanent record, and the current Internal Affairs investigation, Jim was looking awfully worn thin, as McCoy's grandmother would say.

McCoy thought over the various techniques he could try to raise Jim's spirits and help him reestablish a balance, but finally decided that another scolding or more liquor was not what Jim needed. The cup of coffee that Jim had poured himself remained untouched and Jim sat unaware across from him. This was not the confident man who had taken command in a crisis, nor the jaunty bon-vivant who appeared to sail through the Academy in three years, or the serious young man who made people remember the good things about the friends they had lost over Vulcan and against the _Narada_, nor the Captain who had encouraged and boosted his crew into the record books as the finest ship in the fleet. If he wasn't broken yet, the cracks were certainly starting to appear.

"So, how did your interview go?" he opened the conversation since it didn't appear Jim was going to.

Jim shrugged. "About as you'd expect."

McCoy waited for more. That wasn't an answer. At least it wasn't a Jim Kirk answer. He knew Jim didn't like the auditors; professionally because they were essentially invading his ship and questioning his command, and more personally because the type of men they were – uncaring of their looks or physiques and antisocial – they were the antithesis of James T. Kirk. Normally by now Jim would be ranting and raving about their prying questions and invasive tactics, or he'd be making fun of them, laughing at their attitudes and how they had no clue how a starship really ran. Instead, he did nothing but sit in the chair, coffee cup loosely grasped in his hands, his head tilted back and his eyes closed.

"Jim," McCoy began hesitantly. "Jim…what do you need?"

"Nothing," he replied on a heavy sigh, his eyes remaining closed.

After another long silence McCoy tried again. "What do you want?"

There was a momentary pause before Jim finally spoke. "I don't know," he practically whispered. His voice pained.

McCoy let the comment hang in the air for a while, waiting to see if his friend would elaborate or at least open his eyes. When Jim didn't move, McCoy stood silently and left his office through a smaller side door that led to the main hallway, letting it close quietly behind him. This was getting to be more than he could handle on his own.

Jim heard the door close and knew his friend had left the room, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The silence was nice. The hustle and bustle of Medical was a susurrus white noise that was soothing to his stretched psyche. When was the last time he had enjoyed a quiet moment, he thought absently. Things were never quiet on the bridge really, in his ready room he was too busy to enjoy the peace, and his quarters were forever reverberating with the sounds of Abby. Things would quiet down once she was asleep, but then the memories would start and quiet though his rooms may be, they weren't restful when the ache of missing Marissa would catch up to him when nothing else was calling for his attention.

At least here there were no overpowering memories of Marissa. No sights or sounds that triggered a deep gut ache and tightened his throat. He could breathe in the antiseptic smell of Medical bay, the light tone of McCoy's aftershave and the pungent aroma of coffee and just…be. He might not be able to forget all that was going on in his life and his unending loneliness, but he could set it aside for a while.

He heard the door open again and McCoy sitting back in his chair, but he didn't bother to move or say anything. McCoy's presence was comforting. He didn't want to be alone, but he didn't want to talk either and he was thankful that his friend understood that.

It took a few minutes, but Jim eventually noticed that something was not quite right. He didn't know if it was a scent that he didn't associate with McCoy, or a different breathing pattern, but when he opened his eyes he saw Dr. Ubantau, the ship's counselor, sitting calmly at McCoy's desk watching him.

Jim groaned, slouching further down in his chair and looking anywhere but at the doctor sitting across from him.

"Jim when did you last sleep?" Ubantau began.

"Oh god, not you too," Jim moaned, shaking his head. "Last night, thank you very much."

"When did you last sleep for more than a few hours uninterrupted?" the counselor rephrased his question.

The silence lengthened, but finally Jim muttered, "A couple days ago. After the bridge team won the volleyball tournament."

"You played hard, didn't you?"

"We all did," Jim countered, trying to sound indignant.

"You exhausted yourself and you were able to sleep," Ubantau nodded thoughtfully. "Did you dream?"

"Not that I remember," Jim answered honestly.

"And last night? Did you dream?"

Jim glared, a snarl almost appearing on his face. He did not like talking with counselors. "Yeah," he huffed. "And I didn't enjoy them if that's what you're going to ask next."

"Can you tell me about them?" Ubantau asked patiently, hands folded on the desk in front of him.

"Did Bones tell you to come in here?"

"Yes," Ubantau nodded. "He is concerned about you. As am I. We both think that you need to talk to someone."

"Okay, fine," Jim sat forward. "What? You and he have decided to relieve me of my command." He set his coffee down, spilling some on McCoy's desk. Ubantau didn't even move. "You're going to say I'm emotionally compromised, right? Who else is in on this? Spock?" His face was red and eyes wide as he ranted, clear evidence of the deep problems he was trying to deal with and the actual degree of his distress that he tried to hide from everyone.

"Jim," Ubantau said calmly. "You are a brilliant commander and captain. There is no reason to dispute that. You are able to coordinate the functions of this ship and carry out any necessary maneuvers beautifully. But you are dying as a person. Your personal and emotional health is at stake. Dr. McCoy, Commander Spock and I are definitely worried about you."

"So Spock did talk to you," Jim sat back, crossing his arms and glaring. "Figures."

"Yes, Jim, he did," Ubantau agreed. "He is your first officer and he is concerned."

"About the ship," Jim said bitterly, knowing it was not true. Spock had become a good friend, if not a close one, since their mission had started.

"About you," Ubantau countered calmly.

Jim had nothing to say to that. He wanted to say that there was nothing to be concerned about, but that would be a lie. So he said nothing.

The silence this time lasted a bit longer than before. Eventually Jim sighed heavily. "Last night I dreamed that I was chained to a wall," he mumbled. "There were rats. They crawled all over me. Chewed on me. Bit me."

Dr. Ubantau sat quietly, saying nothing, but still watching Jim intently.

"I was in a desert," Jim continued, his voice becoming a little louder, a little more forceful. "Crawling across the sand. I couldn't stand up. And every hill I'd go over led to another one, but I couldn't see it until I was already at the top."

Jim shakily picked up his coffee cup, but immediately set it down with a thump. "There was a room with grey patterned carpet and the floor tilted on end. There were elephants running through, but no sound," he said, bewildered this time. "In the middle of the floor was a giant diamond, slowing turning around, the light glinting off it was almost blinding." He trailed off, staring at his hands.

For a long time nothing else was said.

"Jim, do you feel that you have control over your life?" Ubantau finally asked.

Jim snorted derisively. "No. Sometimes. Maybe."

"Do you have control over the crew?"

"I guess," Jim said hesitantly. "They listen to me. I'm their captain. But I can lose it. It can be taken away from me by…by…" he waved his hand, unable to finish the thought.

"Do you have control over Abby?"

This time Jim gave a huff of laughter, a smile flitting across his face. "Yeah. Mostly. I mean, she is a toddler."

Ubantau nodded. "What would you say is the most important thing in your life right now?"

"Abby. Definitely," Jim spoke without even stopping to think about it.

"Why?" Ubantau prodded.

Jim looked up at him finally, a look of surprise on his face. "Why? She's my daughter," he said incredulously. "She's the only thing I have, the most precious…amazing…gift Marissa gave me."

"And what does Abby talk to you about?" the counselor asked. "She is a bright child. I've heard her chattering on around the ship. What does she tell you, her daddy, about?"

Jim shrugged, nonplussed by this sudden line of questioning. It was like being back with the IA auditor. He didn't know what Ubantau was going for. "She tells me about what they did in daycare that day, what she ate; about her guys – her dolls. What she wants to tell Pasha – that's what she calls Chekov…"

"Does she ever say anything about you? What you do? Or how you are feeling?"

Jim felt a chill go down his spine. "The other night," he began slowly, "I was watching the newsfeed and having a beer. I was just tired and I… I didn't feel like going swimming or to the cafeteria. She was playing with her guys on the couch next to me." He swallowed heavily, his eyes focused on the wall behind the counselor. "She threw one of her guys on the floor. When I asked her why, she said…she said," he cleared his throat. "She said the mama had to go bye-bye and she wasn't coming back soon. Then she held up her other guy and said that he was sad."

Jim's head was now hanging between his slumped shoulders. Abby had been so matter-of-fact, like mama's not coming home and dada's being sad was normal. "Then she asked me if I missed mama and I said I did and she said, 'me too,' and then she continued playing with her guy, the other one still on the floor," he finished softly, raising his head he looked at Ubantau with red rimmed eyes. "She left the doll on the floor. Didn't even pick it up when she went to bed."

He sat back in his chair, his head tilted up as he stared at the ceiling, his anguish written on his face as he fought for self control. "How can I control that? Huh? How can I help my little girl to not miss her mama? How can I explain why she's gone – when I don't even know? How can I not miss her? She was the only woman I ever…" he shook his head, swallowing convulsively. "She doesn't understand. She doesn't know… and I can't…" he stopped suddenly and let his head drop again.

"The only woman you ever what, Jim?" Ubantau asked after a few moments.

Jim visibly shook himself. "No," he shook his head even more. "It's… it's nothing."

"Your past is not exactly a secret," Ubantau started speaking slowly, his comment causing Jim to grimace. "Were you afraid that you were unworthy of Marissa?"

Jim looked over at the doctor and glared, but said nothing.

"Were you afraid she might someday realize this and leave you? That she might find someone else more worthy?"

Jim's mouth opened, but no sound came out, though his expression of horror was easy to read.

"She saved you," Ubantau said and Jim found himself wanting to nod. "She saved you from being dumped; from being abandoned again sometime in the future. She saved you by dying young, by dying now, when she still loved you, didn't she?"

"How can you say that?" Jim asked incredulously, feeling as if the doctor had just slapped him. "How can you…You have no idea what Marissa means… what she meant to me," he said angrily.

Ubantau didn't flinch at Jim's anger. Instead he leaned forward. "I think she meant everything to you," he said softly, his calm words sucking away all Jim's anger.

Jim was struck dumb; all his anger toward Ubantau and his words gone in an instant. Everything. That was exactly the word he'd written in the book.

"The only woman you ever…what?" Ubantau asked again, his voice even, but his eyes sympathetic.

Jim swallowed and looked away. "The only woman I ever loved," he admitted hoarsely.

"Did you tell her that?" Ubantau questioned. "Were you afraid of your feelings for her?"

"No…yes…no," he vacillated. "No. I wasn't afraid. I asked her to marry me. I was planning to ask… But, no, I never told her I loved her."

"Do you think she knew?"

"I don't know," he whispered. "I…I hope so. I did try. Bones says she did," Jim admitted. "He says she wouldn't have wanted another baby if she hadn't loved me and knew that I loved her." He turned to look at Ubantau, his eyes sad. "We were trying to have another when she got orders to go. I had bought her a ring before we even thought about another baby, but… I don't know. I don't know for sure if she knew."

"It is hard to live with the unknown," Ubantau agreed, nodding slowly, as if this was exactly what he had expected. "But sometimes we must trust our friends - those who see us daily and are more objective observers than ourselves. Do you think Dr. McCoy would lie to you?"

Jim shook his head, a wry smile crossing his face. "No. Not even to make me feel better."

Ubantau smiled. "Then you must trust your friend. She knew."

Jim nodded. "I'm trying."

"That is all I ask."

"But if those fuckers hadn't sent her on that damn mission," Jim declared, his anger suddenly spiking again, his eyes flaring hotly. "If I only had more time. If they'd just left us the fuck alone. She'd be here now and I…" he trailed off again, at a loss for words.

Ubantau's head cocked to the side in curiosity, reminding Jim strangely of Spock, though the two men couldn't be more physically different – one tall, rigid and pale skinned, the other short, relaxed to an almost zen like level, and chocolate brown. "Why do you think she was ordered to go on this particular mission?"

Jim shook his head again. "Those ass holes at the Admiralty, Dekker and Franks," Jim bit out angrily. "Dekker wanted his son-in-law to get the _Enterprise_ and Franks is his pal. On Stratnon Marissa embarrassed Dekker in front of a whole room of officers; made him and his son-in-law look like school boys. Dekker was testing us, showing us that he had the power over us as head of the IOG. Wanted us to prove that we wouldn't let our relationship get in the way of running the ship. It was a fucked up thing all around. Dekker trying to prove he had the bigger dick."

Ubantau tried to hide his grin at Jim's words, but failed. "You fought them, didn't you?" he asked. "You accused Dekker of setting this all up. That's why you were charged with insubordination and relieved of command for a short time after we left M'Qtobau."

"Yeah," Jim nodded. "I didn't want to stop searching for our people; I wanted to look for Marissa. We were ordered away and I know – somehow - that they were involved with what was happening. That bombing wasn't done by natives; the explosives were too high tech. Dekker was too… He wouldn't even listen to me when I wanted to search for them; to find proof of what had happened to them. He just wanted us to get the hell out of there. The Viceroy wanted us gone, but M'Qtobau's not that important. They don't have that kind of pull. We could have stayed longer, except for Dekker. I think that means Dekker know what's going on. There are just too many things that seem off."

"How do you know that?" Ubantau asked.

"I've been trying to find out all that I can about M'Qtobau," Jim explained, sitting forward in his chair, finally looking more animated, like his usual self. "UNISTAR is there. They've been there for over twenty years, but it's been carefully hidden. You have to really dig to find the connections. And if they're there, they wouldn't want the Federation involved, not when they can make a profit. The timing is just too perfect. Marissa gets sent their by Dekker and then all of a sudden the xenophobes become militant and blow up a city? And the Federation suddenly backs off and M'Qtobau is basically blacked out – no access, no contact, no information? It's too much of a coincidence.

"And I want to find some evidence that the stories that came out of M'Qtobau after the bombing about Marissa are wrong," Jim continued. "They're using her, her…the bombing, to their advantage, to keep everyone the fuck away. That was just a smear campaign; lies. That information had to be falsified. She would never have said the things they say she did. I want to clear her name."

Nodding thoughtfully, Ubantau smiled lightly. "Then that is what you must do, Captain."

"What?" Jim now looked at him curiously. "I thought… I mean, everyone says I should let it go. That Marissa is gone and I have to move on."

"You are moving on," Ubantau said. "You have no choice, and I am sure some days are harder than others. But you are a highly intelligent and intuitive man. If you think that something is wrong, that Marissa has been slandered not only by the M'Qtobauans, but by her very own superiors, then you should pursue this – within reason," he qualified. "You do have a ship to run and a child to raise, but if searching for answers will give you peace of mind, then you should follow your instincts."

"Really?" Jim still couldn't help asking.

"If you could discover a link between what happened, perhaps UNISTAR was involved and the bombing of the city was somehow master-minded by them, would that help you? If you could prove that Marissa did not say what they said she did; that it was all lies; stories fed to the media, would that bring you peace?"

"Damn straight," Jim nodded. "I could sleep if I knew that whoever was responsible for this was brought to justice. She didn't cause the bombing. She shouldn't have even been there. And if Dekker is somehow mixed up in all of this…if he knows more than he should…if he set her up, I want to be able to prove it and make him suffer."

"Revenge is a dish that is best served cold?"

"I don't care how it's served, as long as I get to see it," Jim said vehemently. "If I could clear Marissa's name…I think I could be happy again. Maybe."

"So, quite possibly, revenge is not your main motivator," Ubantau suggested. "Admiral Dekker is an important and admired member of Starfleet. You don't get to be the head of the Interplanetary Outreach Group easily. It is hard to believe that someone in that position would do something like you are suggesting. It is a position of high trust and integrity."

Jim shrugged. "Yeah, but…there's just too much circumstantial evidence…too many things are happening and there has to be someone pulling the strings. It just can't all be a coincidence. Maybe it's not Dekker himself, but someone out there is orchestrating things."

"Then that is what you need to do – within the parameters of your job," Ubantau told Jim. "Put your energy, anger and misery into finding out what happened. Clear Marissa's name."

"It won't bring her back," Jim said quietly.

"No," Ubantau agreed, "but maybe Abby won't see her daddy being so sad if he had something to focus on. Would that be a good thing?"

"Yeah, that would be good," Jim agreed. "She picks up on a lot more than I realize sometimes."

"Are you willing to let Dr. McCoy give you something to help you sleep?"

"No, I hate sedatives."

"A mild sleep aid," Ubantau pressed. "A stable sleep cycle is very important for maintaining mood and energy levels. You won't be groggy and you won't have nightmares. Would you try it?"

Jim shrugged slowly. "Yeah, I guess. Is it something that I can wake up if I need to? Like if we have an alert or Abby needs me?"

"Yes, these sleep aids only help you to sleep, they don't make you sleep or keep you asleep."

"Okay, what is it? Does it come in a pill, because I really don't like hypos," he said with a self-deprecating smirk.

Ubantau smiled at Jim's attempt at levity. "Let's have Dr. McCoy decide what you need. And if that works, he can give you something to help you with the frustrations and problems during the day time. Would you try something like that?"

This time Jim smirked fully and shook his head. "Baby steps, doc. Let's try the sleep aid first. I don't like the idea of being on anything during the day – even if it evens out my moods, or whatever. I've never needed anything before and I'd rather not start now."

"Fair enough," Ubantau replied as he stood up. "I'm proud of you Jim. I know this was hard for you, but you're willing to try to help yourself. That's a wonderful step. Will you talk to me again?"

"I'll…think about it," Jim told him honestly.

Ubantau smiled. "That's all I ask, Captain. And now, I will leave you to your privacy – at least until Dr. McCoy returns."

"Thanks, Doc," Jim said as he stood up and shook his hand.

"You are very welcome."

Ubantau left the room through the main door into Medical and Jim sat back into the chair feeling surprisingly lighter.

"So how're you doing?" McCoy asked, standing hesitantly in the doorway not ten seconds after Ubantau left.

Jim shook his head and smiled. "I really should be pissed at you… but, I'm not. Let's go get some lunch and then I have to get back to the bridge."

"Sounds good, Jim," McCoy smiled as he held the door open and followed his friend out of Medical.

_Please review_

_PS – for those of you wondering – my surgery went fine. I'm non-weight bearing for 4-6 weeks, which sucks, but it also means that with some physical therapy I have a good chance of getting back to normal. For now I just have to lie around and let a machine bend my knee for me. Leg goes up, leg goes down, leg goes up, leg goes down. Oh, and I've been watching Chris Pine movies… can't really go wrong there._


	18. Chapter 18

**Complications**

**Chapter 18**

**Stardate 2260.86**

Jim sat back as Spock called the briefing to order, recording the stardate, time and personnel present. No one was paying particular attention at the moment; Scotty was whispering something technical to Chekov while using his hands to demonstrate, Uhura was busily typing on her PADD, and Bones was leaning back in his chair, hands folded atop the table frowning blankly into space. Only their newly arrived xenohistorian, Ensign Veronique Meredith, seemed to be hanging on Spock's words.

His instincts had been on high alert since he'd first met Ensign Meredith, but he had to admit that the few times he had interacted with her, she had been cool and professional. He still resented her presence on the ship. Her appointment to the _Enterprise_ meant that someone else was in Marissa's place; that Starfleet knew she was gone and that she wouldn't be coming back. That wasn't something that Jim was at all comfortable with. It may have been almost three months, but he still wasn't ready. Ensign Meredith seemed competent enough, more than competent, actually, but she wasn't Marissa.

It really didn't help that she was also an extremely beautiful woman, which meant he might be expected to be attracted to her by those who did not know him. The thought had crossed his mind that she had been placed on the _Enterprise_ purposely by those who wished to do him harm so that she might charm, attract and seduce him into some kind of indiscretion. While he realized this was extremely paranoid thinking, the realistic part of him had seen too much happen lately in his life and career to believe in random chance any more.

Spock called for everyone's attention by introducing Ensign Meredith to those she had not yet met; giving a brief summary of her qualifications and accomplishments. He then turned the meeting over to her, asking her to update them on the known data on the Granvillians.

She began with simple summaries of the physical features of the planet, the population size, the government structure, the social and religious characteristics, the physical features of the people, and the language. This last item proved to be of the greatest concern, and Uhura entered the discussion with her research into the language patterns of the Granvillians.

"Well, won't the universal translator work for this?" Jim finally queried as the discussion continued for several minutes. It was annoying that simply being able to speak with the natives was going to be their biggest stumbling block.

"Kirk, they don't just say 'hello,'" Uhura looked over at him with a frown, obviously wanting to ask if he had been listening to their discussion at all. "They say, 'the God Eilrach greets you,' or instead of 'thank you,' it's 'Eilrach is grateful.' Nothing is said or done or printed that doesn't mention their sun god. If I asked you to pass a glass of water, it would be 'Lord Eilrach be praised for the water,' and you would be expected to know that the person wanted water." She shook her head at him. "Our Unitrans can't pick up the subtleties of this, so we're going to have to say the right things and not depend on the translator to get it right," she explained.

She sounded patient enough to Jim, who was used to her slightly caustic tone when addressing him, but Ensign Meredith looked between them with wide eyes. Apparently it didn't sound particularly deferential.

McCoy let out a disgusted huff. "So what happens if we don't praise this Eilrach with each breath?" he demanded. "Do we get thrown into their version of eternal fire and brimstone?"

"No," Uhura replied, not even raising an eyebrow at the doctor's surliness. "But it might cause them to rescind their application for admission to the Federation if we don't at least attempt to respect their customs. They are an intelligent race and have a sophisticated level of technology and awareness of the galaxy."

"Actually, Doctor," Ensign Meredith cut in, "we need them more than they need us at the moment. The mineral spinosadite is found in large amounts conveniently on their less populated land mass. And the Federation needs it desperately. Our only other source of it now is Coridan and the Orion Syndicate has the merchant marine and Coridan terrified. They're already slowing down delivery of Federation dilithium supplies*, so another source in an area of the galaxy away from the Orions would be very helpful."

"What's this Spinosadite stuff do that it's so important?" McCoy asked.

"You like breathing oxygen, Bones?" Jim asked with a smile. "It's one of the minerals Starfleet uses in their CO2 – O2 convertors. It's kind of important." Turning away form Bones, Jim looked over at Ensign Meredith speculatively. "Ensign, forgive me, but where did you get your information regarding the Orion Syndicate and Coridan?" he asked.

"After I'd received my posting to the _Enterprise_ I was talking with Tamer Haesselbah, the xenohistorian on the _Yorktown_," she explained. "I told him about my new posting and how Admiral Pinello had already sent me my first assignment. Tamer had just received a debriefing from Admiral Dekker, as well as a bunch of files regarding Granvillia. He thought they were getting the assignment, but he gave me what he had since they hadn't officially been assigned as far as he knew and were on their way to the Tollian system to pick up some scientists."

At the mention of Dekker's name McCoy's eyes flicked to Jim, and Spock's eyebrow rose a fraction of a centimeter.

"Do you know if this information was newly acquired?" Jim asked. "We've not had this sent to us, have we Uhura? Spock? Has something come in that I've missed?"

"No sir, I have not received any recent information on the Orions," Spock replied levelly. "However, given their historical pattern, it is not unsuspected."

"It would have been nice to know, seeing as we were near the shipping lanes to Coridan when we were travelling to Ulvia," Jim frowned. Before he revealed his distrust of Admiral Dekker to his new crewmember, Jim paused. "Okay. So it's pretty important that we not piss off the Granvillians, then, huh?" He looked around the table. Meredith seemed confused, but everyone else at the table was frowning thoughtfully.

"Who's going to teach us how to speak to them? And who else do we plan to have on the away team to go meet these people? Can we all learn the proper way to phrase our phrases?"

"Of course you can learn them, Kirk," Uhura replied, shaking her head in exasperation. "It's going to be the things you say into the Unitrans. You won't need to learn their language, although I gather you do know some of it, Ensign Meredith?" Uhura turned back to their new crewmember.

Chuckling lightly, Meredith shook her head. "I know a tiny bit, Lieutenant. Enough to know I need a Unitrans, too. But the Granvillians are aware of the differences and will tolerate our inexperience. They are hoping to join as much for Starfleet protection in their region as for increased trade with the Federation, specifically of their spinosadite."

"Protection?" McCoy questioned. "From who? The Orions?"

"No," she shook her head. "According to Tamer, they've had offers from a major corporation and were not happy with the specifics of the trade proposal. Then they discovered a database of articles and information on the 'Net about that corporation's reputation in dealing with non-allied planets and realized Federation membership is in their best interests, considering the value of what they have to offer."

"Was that corporation UNISTAR, Ensign?" Spock asked.

"Why yes, it was," she replied. She looked between Jim and Spock who seemed to be communicating without speaking, her question obvious in her expression.

"We've had some dealings with them and that seems to be their modus operandi, though not usually for minerals aside from Dilithium," Jim replied. "Fortunately the Granvillians seem to be more on-the-ball than some others before them. Did your colleague tell you what articles they'd found specifically on the 'Net?"

"No, but I imagine it was the database that's been around for about three or four years now," she speculated. "It moves hosting and changes names, but it's basically a protest against several big corporations, including UNISTAR, saying that they prey on non-allied and low tech planets in order to further their goals and make money."

"Interesting," Jim said. "I've never head of it."

"Really?" Meredith looked at him in surprise.

"Yes," Jim replied, looking at her curiously. "Should I have?"

"I just…I always assumed," she faltered. "It was rumored for a while that professors Larkham and Greegan set it up, but since it was against the Academy's regulations and rules, as well as possibly violating several laws with what the database published… they denied any responsibility. There was an investigation at the Academy and everything, but no one could prove who did it and no one in the department was talking. We all supported the database's aims – to stop the plundering and raping of planets for their resources with barely any compensation. "

"And why would I know about it?" Jim asked again.

She looked over at him, her expression wary. "I always assumed… I thought it was Marissa who created it," she admitted. "It went up sometime after she had graduated and was waiting for a posting on a ship. She was working as a teaching assistant for a couple classes at the time, and she hated UNISTAR and SOLALCO and other big corporations like them. She did a scathing paper on them in her last year."

Jim shook his head slowly. "She never said anything to me."

"I could be wrong," Meredith backpedaled. "It just seemed, at the time… it seemed like something Marissa would do, even if it broke the law. She was more worried about the exploitation of planets, rather than what the law had to say."

"Why keep it a secret, then?" Scotty asked.

"You do not want to piss off companies like UNISTAR," Meredith told him. "The Academy conducted an investigation unofficially at their behest, though no one could prove it was done by any cadets or staff. But even after all of that there were still people – not Starfleet – asking questions and… making things uncomfortable. Professor Larkham had his quarters and his office bugged and Dr. Greegan's were basically ransacked twice."

"A circulating database with such harmful information would be of interest to the company that it is purportedly slandering," Spock chimed in.

"But UNISTAR and other corporations wouldn't want to raise a stink and draw too much attention to something that they didn't want anyone to see to begin with," Jim said thoughtfully.

"Exactly," Meredith agreed. "They could have gone to court and legally charged the maker with slander in order to get the database officially removed from the 'Net, but they didn't. They pressured the Academy, they investigated themselves, but they never pressed any charges or made a public bid to take it down. They didn't want to draw attention to it, especially when it was all true."

"Was it?" Spock questioned.

"I believe so," Meredith responded. "The one time I saw it, it had testimonials and pictures from several different planets that had dealings with big corporations, and it showed data about the buying and selling of certain minerals and technology."

"You say the database has moved," Spock commented. "How is the information distributed?"

Meredith shrugged. "I don't know. It was never in my area of interest, so aside from all the fuss that was raised it didn't really catch my attention. I imagine that it's gone underground. I know that I could probably ask some of my colleagues for the site and they'd send it to me or show me where to go. The thing about big corporations is they tend to have a lot of enemies, too, especially in my field."

"Can you…"

"I think that's enough of this for now," Jim interrupted, looking firmly around the table. "UNISTAR had a chance at Granvillia, they lost, so it's our gain. Let's focus on the mission at hand."

Taking Jim's hint, Scotty leaned forward. "What sort of technology do they have now, Ensign?"

"They've done space flights to their moons," she began slowly, looking around at everyone and obviously perplexed by the change of topic again. "And they have a lot of satellites in geosynchronous orbit for telecommunications. They would be the equivalent of mid 21st century Earth, I suppose. Only two of their flights have achieved warp 1, so far, but if they are admitted into the Federation we can help them with upgrades, something I'm sure their scientists are interested in."

"Anything else?" Jim asked, looking around.

"Yeah," McCoy chimed in. "What kind of deadly plants, animals, diseases and parasites are we gonna run into? Every damned planet has something ready to kill us."

"Come on, Bones," Jim said, forcing a jovial tone. "We didn't have any problems on Ulvia."

"That's one out of how many?" McCoy countered grouchily.

"I have not found any warnings regarding any sort of biological dangers, doctor," Meredith stated.

"Okay, Jim, you hear that?" McCoy demanded. "Don't go looking for something to kill you down there. It'd be nice to have two missions in a row where I don't have to patch up your sorry hide. I'm running out of healing miracles for you."

Jim slewed his eyes at McCoy, sarcastically smirking. "Thank you, Bones. I'm so grateful you take such a sincere interest in my well-being. It certainly is heartening."

"Someone's got to take care of your accident prone, stubborn ass," McCoy groused.

Most everyone looked somewhat amused at the typical exchange between the doctor and captain, but Ensign Meredith was obviously nonplussed by such a frank conversation.

McCoy saw her bewildered look and gave her a small smile. "Don't worry about it, Ensign. The captain here likes to think he's immortal and I'm his personal miracle worker. You get used to it," he shrugged. "Just keep on eye on him if you're ever on his team. When the natives start looking restless and are staring daggers at him it's best to run for it and ask questions later."

"Thank you very much, Bones," Jim said sarcastically. "Okay, back to business… we all need to learn how to phrase our comments to the Granvillians, but at least we will be using the Unitrans. Mr. Scott and Ensign Chekov will meet with their mineralogists and engineers – Ensign Meredith will go with them to help with the language," he looked at the three of them and received nods of agreement.

"Lieutenant Uhura will accompany Mr. Spock and myself to meet with the Premier and his delegates," Jim continued. "Bones, where do you want to be?"

"Georgia?" he replied laconically, "on a swing on the front porch with a mint julep in my hand?"

"You're with me, then," Jim said, ignoring the doctor's sarcasm. "Spock, when do we get there?"

"We will arrive at approximately 1030 hours tomorrow, which is the equivalent to their mid-day," he replied promptly without even having to look at his PADD.

"Great," Jim nodded. "Anyone else have anything to add?" he glanced around. "No? Meeting adjourned. I believe it's time for lunch."

Everyone stood and began collecting their things, with McCoy harassing Scotty about his aftershave and Scotty's bemoaning the doctor's ruining of perfectly good whiskey with ice, sugar and mint leaves, of all things. Chekov sauntered along behind them, obviously enjoying their bickering. Spock waited for Uhura to join him at the door before escorting her to the lift.

Jim had turned in his chair to place some things on his desk.

"Captain?" the soft voice of Ensign Meredith startled him. He wasn't expecting anyone to still be in the room.

He turned quickly. She still stood near her chair at the table. "Yes, Ensign? How may I help you?"

"I just wanted to tell you how honored I am to be serving on the _Enterprise_," she told him.

"I agree with you there," Jim nodded, his lips turning up slightly. "It's a great ship and we have an incredible crew. I hope you enjoy your time here."

"Thank you, sir," she responded, and then paused, as if processing her next words. "I wanted to tell you how sorry I was to hear about what happened to Marissa."

"So you did know her," Jim stated. He had assumed so after what she had said about the mysterious site on the 'Net, but he couldn't be sure.

"Yes, I did," she nodded. "She was a friend and probably the best xenohistorian to come out of the Academy."

"You were in her class? I guess I didn't pay too much attention to the dates on your records."

"Yes. We had some classes together, and later I did some graduate work with her," Meredith told him. "We had the same panel of professors for our doctoral dissertation development. I was thrilled when I heard she won the Cochrane Medal. And her database is amazing. It's something that we xeno people have needed forever." She smiled, but then it faded as she looked away from Jim. "I'm just sorry that she's not going to be able to add to her achievements," she said quietly.

Jim was speechless. He didn't know what to think of the woman before him. He suspected her of being part of Dekker's machinations against him, but yet she had actually known and apparently liked and respected Marissa. Whose side was she on, and were there even sides to choose? He just didn't know anymore.

"Thank you, Ensign," he finally managed to say. "She was a wonderful woman and certainly my best friend. I'm glad you knew and liked her, too."

"Who didn't like her?" Meredith replied with a shrug. "Thank you for your time, sir. Have a good afternoon." Turning, she left the room, leaving him to his roaming thoughts.

Jim sat for a moment thinking hard and fast. What was her game? Shaking his head, he forced himself to put it out of his mind. If she was here for an ulterior purpose he'd find out eventually. If not, then she had work to do, as did he.

Stopping briefly on the bridge for a status report he headed to the mess, hoping to find any of his confidants. Spock and Uhura had just settled at a table when he found them. He joined them before grabbing anything to eat, knowing that they wouldn't mind a brief intrusion. Quickly and quietly he filled them in on the interesting tidbit he'd just learned and asked them about their impression of Ensign Meredith.

Uhura pointed out exactly what Jim had thought – this woman might have been chosen specifically for Jim's ship in hopes of adding to the Admiralty's case against him. Spock listened, obviously evaluating what had been said, before he agreed that once again random chance had long ago been bypassed, though he admitted that Ensign Meredith had been nothing but professional in her activities and interactions.

Jim had to agree with that, but he was still wary. Looking up he noticed the arrival of Commander Greene and Lieutenant Terry. He didn't want to, but he thought he ought to at least present a pleasant, welcoming front to the auditors. His interview two days before had been complete, thorough, and intense and definitely not something he wanted to do again. It was obvious that these two men planned to scrape down to the bones of the _Enterprise_ looking for whatever it was they were seeking.

Politely leaving Spock and Uhura with a brief nod and a shrug towards the auditors, Jim crossed the mess and asked if he might join the two men for lunch. They agreed dismissively and the three of them went through the line to choose their meals. Commander Greene seemed to be afraid of things with his name and chose only white food. Lieutenant Terry went for the high-carb, high fat choices. Jim settled for a Caesar salad with grilled steak.

When they were all seated Jim politely asked how their work was going.

"As well as can be expected, Captain," was the laconic reply.

The two men settled in to mimicking ruminants with their cud, leaving a heavy silence at the table. Jim tried to entertain them with snippets of an abbreviated travelogue, offering interesting tidbits of things he'd seen during his time on the ship. Neither auditor seemed impressed or even interested, giving no response other than watching Jim fixedly. Knowing he could not ask for details about their work on his ship, there was little else for Jim to say.

Mercifully, lunch ended. Jim excused himself, taking his tray to the cleaning unit and then detouring through the food line again to grab an apple. He stopped briefly at the table where Maria Roose, Marissa's old boss and head of the library, was seated. She gladly welcomed him and after a short chat about Abby and a glowing review of Ensign Meredith's work ethic, Jim continued on to McCoy who had just finished his lunch and was also munching on an apple.

"So," McCoy began as Jim plopped down at the table and took a large bite of his Granny Smith, "the new xeno gal had access to info we're not privy too. What are the odds?"

Jim shrugged. "Not as big as you might think – if she really got the information from the xeno on the _Yorktown_ and not Dekker. The xenohistory department is pretty small. Everyone knows everyone," Jim told him. "She was also a friend of Marissa's," he added.

"You're kidding me," McCoy said with a frown.

"At the Academy, and then in their PhD work," Jim explained. "She, uh, offered her sympathy."

"Does the term 'hand-picked' mean anything to you?" McCoy asked with a drawl.

Nodding, Jim took another bite. "As Spock said," he replied after swallowing, "we passed random chance a long time ago."

"I'm beginning to feel like there are strings running up from my hands and feet," McCoy said with a frown, leaning forward onto the table. "Just hope the guy making me dance doesn't cut them."

_Please review, as usual. ;-)_

_So, I'm going to try posting 2x a week, at least for awhile. Think of it as a bonus. Also, I'm really bored. Bed rest sounds nice until you actually have to do it. And then when you can't really move…it's not so fun. I go back to work tomorrow, so that should be interesting. I barely made it from the car to the doctor's office and back to the car today. At least I'll have a chair to rest on._


	19. Chapter 19

**Complications**

**Chapter 19**

**Stardate 2260.86**

Ensign Meredith stepped onto the bridge, every hair in place, her legs seeming to go on forever in her uniform. She nodded politely to Jim before taking a seat at one of the empty tactical consoles.

"Sulu, time?" Jim called.

"Three minutes, Captain."

"Excellent," Jim turned back towards Meredith. "Are you ready Ensign?"

"As ready as I can be, Captain," she replied with a hesitant smile.

"You'll do fine," Jim reassured her. "Uhura and I will handle the big wigs, you keep Scotty and Chekov in line with the mineralogists and engineers and everything's good. Like you said, they want to join and we need their trade. This should be an easy win."

"Thanks, Captain," she nodded. "Now if I could just get my stomach to calm down."

Jim actually chuckled. He could admire someone who was willing to admit to nervousness. He remembered how nervous Marissa had been before going down to Cloral. He'd found her in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet the morning she'd left. He'd immediately thought of the baby, but she reassured him that it was just nerves, which had made no sense to him. She'd pushed and fought hard for the meeting on Cloral; they'd argued on and off for days about his presence on the planet and in the end he'd given in, but only when Spock and Uhura had joined Marissa's side. For her to show nerves right then had seemed out of character, after she'd fought so hard to be able to go.

But, as she pointed out, this was her first big contact mission and it would have lasting effects on the Federation and her career; she'd be an idiot if she wasn't nervous. He'd almost decided to override the decision for him to stay on the _Enterprise_ when she'd stood up, smoothed out her uniform, rinsed her mouth and then marched off to the shuttle bay.

"Better get this over with," she'd said over her shoulder. "I'll be fine once I'm on the planet. It's the waiting and wondering that's killing me."

Now that, Jim could understand, so he followed her out and watched her and her team board the shuttle. It hadn't been a smooth mission, but that hadn't been her fault. And it had been an enormous coup for the Federation, the _Enterprise_, and Marissa's career.

"Nerves are perfectly acceptable," Jim told Meredith. "You'd be an idiot if you weren't at least a little nervous. So long as you get the job done, who cares how you felt waiting and wondering?"

"I'm glad you understand," Meredith smiled fully.

Jim shrugged. "I've had…practice," he smiled wryly, surprised that for the first time since M'Qtobau he was able to remember Marissa without the stabbing pain in his chest. There was still an ache at the memory, but he was able to deal with it.

"Coming out of warp in three…two…one," Sulu interrupted, and in an instant the blurred star field on the view screen turned into a view of a white, brown and blue planet, similar to Earth, but with larger landmasses.

"Keptin, ze _Yorktown_ is alzo here," Chekov chimed in, his voice slightly confused. "Forty-five degree to starboard."

"Put her on screen," Jim told him, sitting forward in his chair. Sure enough, it was the _Yorktown_. "What the hell is Nyola doing here?" Jim said under his breath.

"Captain, we're being hailed," Uhura said.

"On screen, please Lieutenant," Jim replied.

The tanned face of the _Yorktown's_ captain immediately appeared. He was standing in front of his chair, a sneer on his face.

"Kirk, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too, Captain Nyola," Jim smirked. "I suppose I could be asking you the same thing."

"Well?" Nyola prodded when Jim didn't say anything more.

"We're here under orders to start talks with the Granvillians in regards to joining the Federation and setting up contracts for their spinosadite surplus," Jim stated calmly as he relaxed back into his seat, legs crossed casually.

"Under whose orders?" Nyola snapped back, striding in front of his chair, his hands behind his back.

"Admiral Pinello," Jim told him.

"Pinello's not IOG," Nyola sneered. "I was assigned the Granvillia contact by Admiral Dekker."

"When?" Jim countered, sounding only mildly curious, but with a serious look in his eyes. "Pinello's orders came through on 2260.81. And I know the regs, if a ship is not under any current orders they can take on any mission at the behest of an admiral or other ranking Federation official, as long as that ship is not already scheduled for a conflicting mission. Pinello asked, I agreed."

"Well, Admiral Dekker assigned this mission to me on 2260.68," Nyola stated, arms across his chest as he faced the viewscreen directly.

"And yet you are only now arriving," Jim pointed out with a questioning eyebrow.

"We had other priorities. Besides the Granvillians don't need to be awed by the great flagship and its almighty captain. Aren't you short one xenohistorian, anyway?"

Jim saw red at that comment, but didn't rise to the bait. "Apparently, Pinello thought the IOG was dragging its feet getting a ship out to speak with the Granvillians, who, I was rather shocked to hear, have been petitioning to join the Federation for months. And I do have a xenohistorian on board, so don't you worry about us. We'll be just fine dealing with them."

"This is my mission, Kirk," Nyola glared.

"I'm sorry, Captain," Jim shot back. "Last I heard, the _Yorktown_ was supposed to play taxi for a bunch of scientists. If that's your priority, then don't let us stop you."

"Where did you hear that?" Nyola demanded.

Jim shrugged. "Word gets around."

Nyola eyes shifted off to his right, off screen, as he glared stonily at one of his crewmembers. Jim would bet good money it was his xenohistorian.

"Be that as it may," Nyola said, his eyes coming back to Jim. "This is my mission. Back off."

"Fine," Jim replied with a smirk.

"Fine?" the other man replied incredulously.

"Just have Dekker contact the _Enterprise_ and let me know what our next assignment is," Jim stated. "Until then, we'll continue on as planned. Kirk out."

The screen went blank and then Granvillia appeared, as peaceful as before.

"Well, that was interesting," Jim commented, turning his chair to look at Spock.

"Indeed," Spock agreed.

"Apparently daddy-in-law is playing favorites," Jim commented.

"Excuse me?" Ensign Meredith said, drawing Jim's attention to the other side of the bridge. "What is going on?"

Jim looked at her steadily for a moment, debating how much to tell her. He shrugged. "Nyola's father-in-law just happens to be Admiral Dekker," he explained. "And the _Yorktown_ doesn't have the best record when it comes to contact missions."

"They are in fact ranked last out of all Constitution class ships since Captain Nyola took over command on 2257.42," Spock recited.

Meredith looked thoughtful.

"What, Ensign?" Jim asked.

She glanced up at Jim and then at the view screen. "Well, Captain," she began slowly, turning back to face him. "That kind of explains Tamer's…attitude when I spoke with him after I received my assignment to the _Enterprise_. He seemed relieved that we'd be taking the Granvillia mission even though he'd already received all the information from Admiral Dekker. I got the distinct impression that he didn't have much…trust or respect for his captain."

Jim didn't respond to that. He didn't have any respect for Nyola either. The man was a decent captain, he had to be to remain in command even if his father-in-law was his boss, but his strengths seemed to lie in exploration and discovery, rather than contact and negotiations. He came across as too heavy handed and overbearing; unwilling to negotiate for long or to see any other side, but his own.

"Captain, you have an incoming priority one message from Admiral Dekker," Uhura spoke.

"That was quick," Jim said, glancing over at Spock.

"Seven minutes, forty-five seconds," the Vulcan stated. "He must be nearby."

"Starbase Andromeda," Uhura informed them.

"What's the head of the IOG doing this far out?" Jim asked curiously, to which Spock shrugged.

"I can only speculate, Captain."

"Well, we'll have to speculate later," Jim said with a wry smirk. "We're about to get reassigned. Uhura, on screen please."

"Admiral Dekker," Jim said pleasantly enough as he remained casually sitting in his chair, legs still crossed. "What brings you this far out in the galaxy?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Kirk," Dekker responded in annoyance. "And sit up. Show some respect."

"Yes, sir," Jim replied. He did uncross his legs and sit up a bit straighter, but there was still a smirk on his face. "How's Andromeda Base? I've heard good things about it. Haven't been there myself, though."

Dekker's face turned red and he huffed and puffed at the screen. Apparently his location wasn't supposed to be known. The thing was, if you had the best crew you could get, they tended to do things that others don't expect, like breaking encryption and backtracking communication relays without being asked. And Uhura was damn good at her job. He'd have to put her up for another commendation, or maybe a promotion soon.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Dekker repeated, his voice tense. "Now what the hell are you doing at Granvillia? I didn't order you there and I didn't give you permission."

"No, sir, you didn't," Jim agreed. "Admiral Pinello did. Apparently he felt that the Federation needs Granvillia to join the fold sooner rather than later. I've heard the supplies of spinosadite have been tied up lately."

"It's not his decision to send you anywhere," Dekker argued.

"The _Enterprise_ had no other pending assignments," Jim pointed out. "We've freelanced before without a problem. In fact, Admiral Barnet was quite happy with our success on Tarryall when he asked us to negotiate the shipping fees for Talequin Peroxide in exchange for medical aid."

"Yes, Kirk, we're all aware of your success stories," Dekker said snidely, "but this assignment is for the _Yorktown_. You take your orders from me, not Pinello, and I did not okay this."

"Fine," Jim replied.

"Fine?" Dekker shot back, as nonplussed as his son-in-law when Jim had responded in the same way.

"Fine," Jim nodded. "I'll just let Pinello know that the _Enterprise_ has been reassigned and then we'll go on our merry way."

"I will talk to Pinello," Dekker said sternly.

Jim raised an eyebrow. "I really think I should, seeing as he contacted me and…"

"Kirk!" Dekker interrupted. "I am this close," he held up two fingers close together, "to charging you with insubordination again."

"I am sorry Admiral," Jim replied, trying to sound obsequious, but failing miserably. "I'm just trying to do my job to the best of my ability, and Admiral Pinello did contact me and he was depending on the _Enterprise_ to help…"

"Kirk!" Dekker practically yelled, his face red. "Shut up and get your ass to the Tollian system, you are picking up a group of scientists on their way to Regula I. I will speak to Admiral Pinello and remind him that he does not get to order my ships around. Dekker out!"

"Receiving orders, now, sir," Uhura told him shortly after the screen went back to the view of Granvillia.

"I don't think he's very happy with me," Jim said with a small smile.

"It would appear not," Spock agreed, "though his supposition that you should not take orders from Admiral Pinello is illogical. As head of the Intergalactic Outreach Group he is charged with monitoring and organizing starship assignments, but there is nothing in the regulations that forbids other ranking officers from suggesting or ordering any ship to a mission."

"I know that," Jim nodded. "And Pinello knows that. And I'm betting Dekker knows that, he just doesn't like it. Especially when it interferes with his plans…whatever they happen to be." Jim shrugged. "Maybe this is just a pissing match between two admirals. Chekov," he called, spinning in his chair, "what's our ETA for picking up and dropping off these scientists?"

"It iz three days to pick up ze first group on Starbase 21," Chekov responded, fiddling with his screen. "And zen we must make two…three stops to pick up more, so…" he punched a few more things into his console. "Ten days."

"Great," Jim rolled his eyes. "Well, let's get going. We have some scientists to herd." Standing up, he stretched. "I'll be in my ready room. Uhura, if you could have a channel ready?"

"Yes, sir," she immediately replied.

"Well, ensign," Jim turned to Meredith. "I guess you were nervous for nothing. I hope your friend is good. I honestly don't think even Nyola could mess this up, but it helps if he has a strong team."

"Tamer's good at his job, sir," she responded.

"Good," Jim smiled. "Then I guess we'll all be breathing easy." And with that he left the bridge.

Ensign Meredith looked around the bridge at all the crewmembers who were grinning at each other.

"Is there something I should know about the Captain and Admiral Dekker and Captain Nyola?" she asked Spock.

"The Admiral and Captain Kirk have had…differences of opinion, in the past," Spock responded, causing Sulu to laugh and Uhura to roll her eyes, while most everyone else grinned even wider. "The Admiral does not really like the Captain."

"And the feeling is mutual," Sulu interjected.

"So I noticed," Meredith said wryly. "He's not going to…to contact Admiral Pinello against orders, is he?" she asked hesitantly.

"No, I do not believe he is," Spock said. "Ensign, since this mission has been cancelled, I would like you to continue Lieutenant O'Donnell's work regarding the Alpha Bellatrix situation. I believe she left full notes."

"Yes, Commander," Meredith said.

Spock looked around the bridge. "As you were," he told everyone, making it obvious that any discussion of Granvillia and Admiral Dekker would have to wait until later, when they were off duty. Then he too, retreated to the captain's ready room.

"So," Jim said as soon as the door closed behind Spock, "what do you think is going on?"

"I do not know," Spock responded, "but," he continued, taking in Jim's glare at his prevaricating, "in my research I have found that the shortage of Spinosadite has been well known for many months. In fact, due to the situation on Coridan and with the Orion Syndicate, such a shortage has been predicted for over a year by some sources."

"Yet, we have a planet rich in Spinosadite who is asking to join the Federation and a ship is only finally being assigned now," Jim concluded.

"Yes," Spock nodded once. "It is curious."

"It's almost like…" Jim began thoughtfully. "It's almost like Starfleet was waiting."

"For what?" Spock question.

"To see if UNISTAR would get the contract for Spinosadite and start selling it."

"That is disturbing."

Jim nodded. "Or Dekker purposefully postponed contact in order to give UNISTAR a shot at it first."

Spock's head cocked to the side. "Have you discovered a connection between the Admiral and UNISTAR?"

Jim sighed in frustration. "Nothing solid, yet. Just hints in the press and comments made by some industrialists. Sommerall, the CEO, is pretty low key and the resources on the ship are limited. I can only tap into off ship resources when we're in an opportune area and only for so long. Don't want to get caught."

"I see," Spock replied, completely ignoring the fact that his captain was engaging in something that was quasi-legal. "It still begs the question why two ships were sent. And why now?"

"That's easy," Jim smirked. "Pinello was probably screaming for something to happen and he got tired of waiting for Dekker, so he contacted us to get it done. But if it's going to happen, Dekker wants to be in control and it's an easy win – he'll want Nyola to have it over us, any day."

"Sometimes I do not understand humans," Spock said thoughtfully. "What does it matter who gets credit, when the end result is what is important?"

"I don't really understand us sometimes, either," Jim agreed. "If I could just figure out what Dekker's game is. I know he's involved in some way with UNISTAR. I just can't figure out how. I'd kill for a clean PADD and ten minutes with unobstructed access to the 'Net on Earth – or any allied planet." 

Straightening his shirt, a motion that Jim had come to associate with his Vulcan crewmember feeling uncomfortable, Spock took a deep breath before looking directly at Jim. "Perhaps now is the time that I should mention that I have been contact with… a kinsmen in regards to your situation."

"Okay," Jim drawled, watching Spock closely. "I trust you Spock."

"I have spoken briefly with Ambassador Selek," he told Jim. "He is aware of what has been happening in your life and is endeavoring to find any causes of Lieutenant O'Donnell's death that might not have to do with the situation on M'Qtobau."

"Really?" Jim asked, somewhat stunned.

Spock nodded.

"When did you first contact him?"

"Shortly after you received notice of Mr. O'Donnell's suit for custody of Abby," Spock told him. "Nyota and I felt that there were too many unacceptable occurrences in regards to Lieutenant O'Donnell's death and that between the two of us, not everything could be investigated. It was my father who suggested contacting the Ambassador. As a respected member of the Federation, yet outside of Starfleet, he has access to more information than anyone on the _Enterprise_."

"So…" Jim looked at Spock in bemusement. "You and Uhura and Ambassador Spock have been investigating what happened on M'Qtobau?"

"Correct," Spock nodded again. "And by extension Admirals Dekker and Franks and UNISTAR."

"And have you discovered anything?" Jim prodded. His own investigation had been going in circles. With M'Qtobau under a self-imposed communications blackout and Starfleet not allowing access, his hands had been tied to what information he could actually access.

"Nothing of seeming consequence," Spock told him honestly. "When last I spoke to Ambassador Selek he had hoped to have something for our next communication."

Jim sat back, an almost smile hovering on his face. He was lucky to have the crew he did. They really were his family. "Well, what do you say I contact Pike – I think he'll be interested to know what went on today, and you can contact Selek. Maybe he'll have something for more for us."

"Of course, Captain," Spock responded. Turning, he moved to leave the room.

"And Spock," Jim called out.

"Yes?"

"Thank you," Jim told him sincerely. "For…for taking the time to try to…help me. You and Uhura. I appreciate it. A lot."

Spock's lip twitched slightly and his eyebrow rose as he looked back at Jim. "As your first officer it is my job to see to my captain's wellbeing, both physically and mentally. I was not inconvenienced in anyway. Lieutenant O'Donnell was my subordinate too, and her death was not…of her own making, as has been insinuated."

"No, it wasn't," Jim agreed. "I just hope we can figure out who the hell is to blame."

"That is my wish too, Captain," Spock nodded. "I will contact you if Ambassador Selek has any information."

Jim nodded in dismissal. "Thanks Spock." He watched the Vulcan leave the room, then turned to his communications console. "Uhura, see if you can get Admiral Pike on the line."

"Right away, Captain," Uhura responded. "I believe he is currently on Starbase 27."

Jim smiled to himself. Of course Uhura knew that. She was probably just waiting for him to ask.

Not five minutes later, Jim was looking at the calm continence of Admiral Christopher Pike.

"Admiral," Jim smiled wryly. "Have I got a story to tell you…"

_Please review_

_The following footnote should have been including in the previous chapter in regards to the idea of the spinsadite and Coridan and the Orion Syndicate. Sorry about that. This is what happens when you split stuff up. _

_*from 'Grandfather's House: The Memorial' by Siskiyou, fanfiction dot net #6177411 – used with permission. _

_PS – if you are looking to go see a funny movie, and you liked The Hangover, go see Horrible Bosses. I now have a crush on Jason Bateman._


	20. Chapter 20

**Complications**

**Chapter 20**

**Stardate 2260.88**

"Captain, Thank you for inviting me to dine with you tonight," the woman smiled as she entered the suite. She changed out of her science blues and was wearing a soft looking baby blue sweater that complimented her eyes and a pair of leg hugging slacks that emphasized her long, shapely legs

"Of course, Dr. Marcus," Jim smiled pleasantly enough at the woman as she passed by him, hips swinging. "I'm only sorry that my schedule had been so busy that I've been unable to speak with you since you've been on board. What you and your colleagues have been discussing with my first officer sounds very fascinating." He walked over towards the bar in the living area.

The blonde smiled widely, as she sat back onto the couch and crossed her legs. She was wearing a pair of the most impractical high heels Jim had ever seen. Who packed those kinds of shoes when heading out to a scientific research station? "So you do know what we're doing."

"Mr. Spock keeps me informed, Dr. Marcus," Jim told her, holding up a bottle and silently offering to pour her some wine.

"Yes, please," she nodded. Her hand brushed against his as Jim handed her a glass. "And I believe in such situations you can call me Carol, Captain," she said with a sly smile.

Jim hesitated as he poured his own glass, but not long enough for his guest to notice. This time his smile was a bit more forced. "Carol," he repeated. "And please, call me Jim."

"Thank you, Jim," she smiled up at him. "So…" she began, looking around the room speculatively.

"It's unfortunate that your colleagues couldn't join us this evening," Jim interjected, interested in gauging her reaction. "Dr. Gregor seemed particularly interested in learning about the _Enterprise_."

Dr. Carol Marcus and her team of scientists had been on board the _Enterprise_ for five days now. The ship was playing escort and taxi; picking up other scientists and escorting them to an outpost in the farthest reaches of the Alpha Quadrant. An assignment that had been given to the _Yorktown_ at first, but Dekker had seen fit to rearrange everything on a whim, apparently. Jim still had a bad feeling about what was happening on Granvillia, but he had to follow orders. At least the _Yorktown's_ xenohistorian was competent. Starfleet need Granvillia.

Dr. Marcus had been extremely friendly when she had beamed on board and Jim's shields had immediately gone up. It might have been a while, but he knew when a woman was interested in him and it really wasn't something he was even remotely ready to deal with, so he had made himself scarce, citing ship's business. Still, five days in and one more stop away from their destination and Jim had given in to Spock's hen pecking and invited the scientists to dinner. Somehow it had evolved into dinner with just Dr. Marcus. Bones and Uhura would be joining them after their shifts ended, but the remaining scientists had either begged off or were too busy, and Spock had been corralled into one of their experiments.

"Oh," Carol looked a bit startled that he was being so blunt. "Well, they're very dedicated and once Dr. Gregor gets something going he's very tenacious and everything else kind of slips his mind. We scientists, in general, aren't very social creatures," she recovered nicely, batting her eyelashes.

"Of course," Jim replied pleasantly enough, though to anyone who knew him it was obvious he wanted to be anywhere else but here in this cabin with Carol Marcus.

"This room is pretty austere," Carol commented after a prolonged silence. She stood up and circled the couch towards where Jim was standing, ostensibly to look at the generic artwork on the wall behind the mini bar.

"I don't spend a lot of time here," Jim said bluntly, as the door chimed. Moving quickly, he hoped he managed to cover the relieved look on his face. "Dinner's here."

"Already? That's sooner than I expected," Dr. Marcus said, her disappointment obvious. "We haven't even finished our first drink."

Jim let the crewmember in and he and Dr. Marcus watched as he efficiently unloaded several trays and a small tureen onto the dining table.

"Well," Jim smiled charmingly. "I didn't want to drag the evening on. I figured you'd want to get back to your colleagues…they seemed so excited about what they were working on. I didn't want to eat up too much of your time with ship formalities."

"Formalities?" Dr. Marcus mouthed softly, looking between Jim and the now full dining table.

"Thank you, Matthews," Jim said, taking off one of the lids and inhaling deeply. "It smells delicious. Tell Chef he did an amazing job again."

"Yes, Captain," Matthews smiled and nodded before gathering the hover cart and leaving the cabin.

"Dr. Marcus," Jim held out a chair politely.

His guest still seemed a bit thrown off, but she recovered quickly, smiling up at Jim as she sat. "Call me Carol, Jim," she reminded him, her eyelashes lowered and her voice a bit huskier than he'd heard before.

"Excuse me, Carol," Jim agreed. "More wine?" he asked as he sat at the head of the table.

"Yes please," she held out her glass. Jim filled it and then set the bottle down, reaching for the bowl of salad.

"No more for you?" she asked playfully, taking a sip as she looked at him over the rim of her glass. "It's a very good vintage."

"It is," Jim agreed. "But I don't like to drink while on duty. One glass is enough for me." He offered her some salad.

"Surely you're not on duty now," Carol asked, her eyelashes lowering again.

"I'm the captain," Jim replied, helping himself to some vegetables before offering her the plate. "I'm always on duty."

"Oh," Dr. Marcus looked taken aback. "Not even in your own quarters?" she tried to recover.

"Yes, in my quarters I can relax," Jim told her before offering the dish again. "You should really try the vegetables. It's a mix of a bunch of different ones from across the galaxy and the spices Chef uses really bring out the different flavors."

She took the serving bowl from him without question, her smile back in place. "Oh, well then if…"

"But these aren't my quarters," Jim continued. "Have you had arglian beef before?" Jim asked, handing her another platter. "Though technically I suppose it's not really beef since it doesn't come from cows, but it's a close approximation. It's really good, especially the way chef prepares it with a light wine sauce."

Dr. Marcus took a small bite, looking at Jim as if he was some sort of strange puzzle. "It is good," she agreed.

They lapsed into silence as they ate. Jim knew he should make some effort to entertain his guest – beyond the culinary stylings of the _Enterprise's_ resident chef – but was unable to muster up the desire. He was just so tired and there were other things he would have rather been doing than playing host to a flirtatious scientist; things like having dinner and playing with his daughter or contacting Pike again and trying to get him to tell him what the hell was going on between Pinello and Dekker, and why they were assigned something that had already been assigned to another ship weeks ago.

"I believe, if I've heard correctly, that you are the youngest captain in Starfleet history," Dr. Marcus began as the silence dragged on and Jim made no effort to fill it.

"Yes," Jim replied, serving himself some more beef.

She leaned toward him eagerly; her eyes wide and focused only on him. "It's so amazing, all that you've done; everything you've achieved."

"I've been lucky," Jim said succinctly, placing his utensils down deliberately across the rim of his plate. "I was in the right place at the right time with an amazing crew." He smiled genuinely, which he knew was a mistake by the way her eyes lit up just that little bit. "I'm convinced that they could pull off miracles without breaking a sweat."

"But you're their captain," Dr. Marcus pointed out coyly, obviously trying to stroke his ego just as her hand was currently stroking his forearm.

"And a captain is only as good as his crew," Jim countered, pulling away slightly and reaching for the dessert plates. "Are you ready for dessert?"

"Of course. I'm always ready for something…sweet," she smiled at him as she reached out and rubbed the stem of her wine glass suggestively.

Jim caught the motion, but ignored it. "We took in some fresh fruit from Osiris that Chef baked into some tarts," Jim said opening the dessert tray. "They're really quite good. I had to stop Ab…" he coughed, feeling himself flush. "I can't stop eating them," he recovered.

Dr. Marcus' face fell slightly.

"Are you allergic to Osirian fruit?" Jim asked curiously.

"Uh, no. Why?" she looked over at him.

"Well, you looked disappointed," Jim admitted.

"No, not disappointed," she told him, her foot brushing against his leg. "I was just hoping for something a bit more…decadent. Something made from chocolate. There's nothing I like better than a rich, creamy chocolate cake," she continued in a husky voice.

Jim stiffened in his seat, unaware of the foot now rubbing seductively against his calf. An image of Marissa flashed through his mind; her hair down, eyes laughing as she enjoyed her last bite of chocolate cake, her lips closing around her fork, not missing a single bit of chocolate; her eyes partially closed and her head tipping back slightly as she moaned in appreciation, then looking over at him mischievously as she licked the rest of the fork clean, her expression telling him that she knew he was hard and silently promising him that she would take care of him later – when they were alone.

"I don't eat chocolate," Jim said harshly, pushing away from the table – and Carol – and standing abruptly. "If you will excuse me, Dr. Marcus… I… the ship," he fumbled. "I have things to see to." He nodded, but was unable to look at her as he beat a hasty retreat.

He was in such a hurry to get away from her and the memories she had suddenly envoked that he literally ran into McCoy as he stepped out the door.

"Good, Bones!" his said in a falsely heartiness, slapping his friend on the back as he maneuvered around him. "And Uhura!" he exclaimed, his voice brittle in his over enthusiasm.

McCoy looked at him with suspicious eyes as Jim walked quickly down the hallway backwards.

"Dr. Marcus was just about to have dessert. Osirian fruit tarts, Bones, you love 'em! I have to…I forgot to…" he fumbled for words again. "I need to talk with…Scotty… about some engine…stuff." He was already halfway down the corridor. "You know, ship stuff," he waved a hand absently, almost smacking it into the wall beside him. "Go on in and introduce yourself. There's some nice wine. Hate for it to go to waste. Gotta go. Sulu's waiting." And with that, he turned the corner and they could hear him beating a hasty retreat. Not quite at a run, but pretty damn close.

McCoy and Uhura exchanged a look.

"I thought he said Scotty," Uhura commented with a pointed look, her arms crossed as she stared at where Jim had just been.

"He did," McCoy agreed, shrugging his shoulders.

With a shared sigh they entered the VIP suite.

By the time he reached his quarters Jim had managed to calm down. The cold sweat that he had broken into had made him clammy, but he no longer felt like he was going to hyperventilate, or worse, throw up.

Flashbacks of Marissa had been a daily and nightly occurrence for weeks after the distress call, but they had been lessening. It had been over three months now and while the visions weren't as often, they were just as powerful and always like a kick in the gut when they occurred.

Rand gave him a curious look as he stood leaning against the door, panting as if he had just come from a long run, his eyes closed tightly as he did his best to erase the images of Marissa from his mind. Erasing Dr. Carol Marcus was much easier. As beautiful as she was, Jim didn't feel any interest in her at all and he just wished she and her stupid team were off the _Enterprise_ already.

"Everything okay, Captain?" Rand asked quietly, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. He could just see Abby's head as she sat at the table having her own dinner.

Mentally shaking himself, Jim pushed away from the door. "Fine, Rand," he replied.

"Your dinner go okay?"

"About as expected," Jim said wryly.

"That bad, huh?" she said with some sympathy. While Dr. Marcus' interest in Jim wasn't know ship wide, nothing got past his yeoman, especially the overly flirtatious attentions of a visiting scientist who just happened to have a lot of questions for the captain. Rand had done her best to run interference, but Dr. Marcus had been extremely persistent.

"Dada!" Abby squealed, finally noticing him as he walked into the kitchen past Rand. She hoped off her chair and came running at him.

"She just started eating," Rand told him, smiling as Jim scooped the toddler up and kissed her cheek, causing the little girl to giggle and declare, "Scritchy, dada!"

"Okay," Jim responded to Rand, his attention still focused on Abby, his smile wide and genuine. "And just what is for dinner?"

"Chik'n 'n pears 'n broc'li 'n peas 'n pud'in," Abby rattled off, ticking off each item on her chubby fingers.

"Pudding?" Jim laughed. "I don't think Miss Janice gave you pudding for dinner." He walked over towards the table to look at her plate. "I think pudding is for dessert when you finish your dinner."

"Awl dun," Abby declared, smiling angelically up at her father.

Jim and Rand laughed in unison. "I don't think so munchkin." He set her down and playfully tapped her nose with his finger. "You just started."

Unperturbed, Abby went back to her meal, swinging her legs and talking softly to herself as she picked out the choicest morsels and put them on her fork before putting it into her mouth. Jim and Rand smiled as she offered a bite to Sehlat who was perched on the table next to her glass of juice.

"I've got it from here, Rand," Jim said, looking over at his yeoman and giving her a small smile. "Record your time on the log."

"Captain, there's no need," she protested, shaking her head. "I don't mind watching Abby."

"I know, but you know you have to Janice," Jim scolded lightly. "I appreciate it. I really do, but I can't be seen misusing Starfleet resources and personnel."

Rand huffed, crossing her arms. "That's so ridiculous."

"I agree," Jim said, bending down to pick up a piece of chicken Abby had dropped. "But if I'm going to get through this investigation we have to do this by the book." He looked at her pointedly. "And that means paying you whether you like it or not. I wasn't about to give Abby up to her grandfather, I'm not about to let Starfleet take away my ship."

"The _Enterprise_ wouldn't be the same without you and Abby," Rand sighed heavily.

"Well, I'm not planning on going anywhere," Jim patted Rand on the back. "Say good bye to Miss Janice, Abby. And thank you," Jim prompted.

"Bye Miss Janis," Abby grinned and waved, the broccoli in her mouth not at all affecting her cuteness factor. "Tank cue."

"Your welcome, Abby," Janice smiled. "Have a good night with your daddy."

Jim escorted her to the door and watched as she filled out the log and wished her good night. He knew she was an amazing yeoman, but since the distress call she'd also become a good friend; watching over him and Abby, making sure they were taken care of, and that someone was always available to watch Abby should Jim need it. Between her and McCoy, Jim wasn't sure how he would have survived these past months. Not that it was easy, but they made the burden on him lighter and for that he was forever in their debt.

After dinner playtime was always a highlight of his day and Jim relished the time he got to spend with his daughter. Sometimes if things were busy on the ship these were the only few hours Jim got to spend with her, not including briefly in the morning as he hustled her from breakfast to daycare or the occasional lunchtimes when he was able to sneak away and visit for a while. It wasn't always that hectic, but he'd felt that way for the last week while the scientists were on board. He knew Rand, McCoy, Chapel, and Spock and Uhura were helping pick up the slack so that Abby didn't have to be in daycare all the time, but he still felt guilty. He wanted to be the one watching over his daughter.

The mini piano was still a favorite and Spock was still giving her lessons, so Jim was happy to listen to her play. Spock had taught her a new song and while it was far from perfect, Jim could normally recognize a few notes. Then they moved on to her guys and sometimes she helped him build things out of her bricks. It really didn't mater what they did, just as long as they were together.

The hardest part of the evening was always right after her bath. He'd done his best to keep her routine consistent and stable; bath, pajamas, hair dried, story, songs and bed. It was story time that was the hurdle. In the beginning, after Marissa had been dropped off on M'Qtobau, Abby wanted only Mama Stories, stories that Marissa had recorded and read aloud in front of a camera. That had been fine, though melancholy. But then the distress call had come and watching them tore at Jim each and every time Abby watched them. Seeing Marissa alive and smiling, reading to their daughter, listening to her tell Abby that she loved her and would see her soon and to be good for daddy – it broke his heart every time. The first few weeks after the distress call he'd get through the vid, sing Abby a song or two, put her to bed, and then he'd either throw up or drink; sometimes both.

But lately, Abby hadn't been as interested in the Mama Stories. She wanted Jim to read to her and while he was grateful not to go through the torture of seeing and hearing Marissa, he wondered what it meant long term. Was Abby forgetting Marissa? In the beginning she had asked nightly for mama. She was used to either Jim or Marissa sometimes not being around for bedtime, but as the first week dragged into two weeks, she became cranky and upset. She wanted her mama and that was that. Jim tried to soothe her tears with promises of soon; that mama was just visiting a new planet and they'd go get her soon. Soon was not a concept most toddler's comprehended and every morning and night they'd have the same discussion.

Then the distress call had been intercepted and they'd raced to M'Qtobau only to be ordered away and suddenly telling Abby that her mama would be home soon was no longer an option. Because she would not be home soon, no matter how Jim screamed internally that it wasn't true, that it couldn't be true; Marissa wasn't coming home to them and he couldn't lie to Abby. He couldn't give her false hope, even if it seemed that some days it was the only thing that was getting him through it all.

So he watched as Abby carried on with her life; mornings and evenings with him, daycare, time with Rand and Bones and Spock and Uhura, and the requests for mama dwindled, until it was only an occasional question, brought up more by some random memory or something that Jim said, rather than her own thoughts. And when she asked for mama, Jim would hug her close and kiss her head and tell her that mama wasn't coming home, but that mama would always love her.

Abby still didn't understand; never was as much of a foreign concept as soon, but he didn't know what else to say. Bones had given him a picture of Marissa taken at some point during their wild night out with Bones and Janine when Abby was just a baby. Her hair was down and she was smiling that small little smile she did when she was looking at him fondly as he said or did something silly. Seeing it brought a lump to his throat, but before he could say anything to thank his friend for such a precious gift, Bones had cleared his throat and nodded. "It's for the munchkin," he said, his voice gravelly. "I thought it might be something nice… to put by her bed." Jim hadn't been able to say anything, but Bones had understood, clapping him on the shoulder before walking away.

So, each night after their songs they said good night to mama; it was part of the routine. The picture helped. As did the vids, but Jim still worried that Abby was forgetting and he didn't know what to do about it.

He knew Abby was too young to understand the concept of death. Gone meant not here, not forever, but as she got older he knew she'd have questions. He certainly did. His mother had never talked about his father, but his grandparents had. They hadn't known George Kirk well, but they'd liked him and respected him, so when Jim asked, they answered, but he'd never had any pictures. His mother had destroyed them at some point, long before he was even aware of what a father was. He wasn't going to do that to Abby.

But more important than gathering pictures of Marissa was finding out the reason behind her death. That's what he was focusing all his spare energy on, and why he really didn't want to bother with Carol Marcus and the other scientists.

One day, when Abby was old enough to ask and understand, Jim wanted to be able to tell her why her mother had died. And the reason wasn't anything that had come out in the press so far.

He did not believe that Marissa would say anything that might incite a bunch of rabid, xenophobic terrorists to take out an entire city. She was a Starfleet officer, and as such a member of the Federation, but she was also extremely sympathetic to the sovereign rights of each planet they visited. She didn't necessarily believe that joining the Federation was the be-all-end-all. She believed that each planet should make their own choices based on the needs and the wants of their people. If a planet said they weren't interested in joining, Marissa would never push, but she was always interested in them – the planet's history, their beliefs, their social structure. Each new planet and society she met was treated with the same courtesy and respect whether they were in the Federation or not. And he'd be damned before he let the M'Qtobauan press be the last word on her life.

Starfleet wasn't much better. The M'Qtobauan situation was such a clusterfuck that they had backed quickly away from it. Marissa's death was quoted as being 'unfortunate' and 'something that should have been avoided.' They were writing her off as some kind of martyr, but there were enough hints and things left unsaid that insinuated that her death while unfortunate, was her own fault, and some conservatives even blamed her 'enthusiasm' for her job and that Starfleet should show more respect for individual planets rather than trying to be heavy handed and force them to join the Federation.

All the hard work that Marissa had put into her database; the open-minded approach she had brought to working with new and emerging cultures were being torn apart in the galactic press because of what some small planet press was saying about her and her interactions with their populace. It had died down quickly, M'Qtobau was a small planet after all, but the damage was already done.

As far as he could tell there wasn't a single actual recording of Marissa saying anything to anyone on M'Qtobau. Everything in the press was from an anonymous source or quoted from some official, or worse, directly from the xenophobe terrorists themselves. He had seen no proof that Marissa had said anything that she was being quoted as saying.

So, once Abby was in bed, if Jim didn't have any official work to do, he continued his research into the M'Qtobauan situation, trying to find out what had actually happened and why. He wasn't going to let Marissa become a martyr or some scapegoat.

He'd been making some progress with a M'Qtobauan database he'd been able to access – not all together above the board, and he was finding it interesting how up until Marissa's visit there hadn't been evidence that the xenophobic groups were organized enough to pull off something like the bombing of an entire city. He was really interested in the current Viceroy's history and the whiffs of UNISTAR involvement that he'd been beginning to pick up. It was hard to believe that it was coincidental that Marissa had seen the two UNISTAR recruiters on M'Qtobau right before everything went to hell. They'd had seen and heard enough about the fall out of UNISTAR overrun planets to be wary and concerned.

He had almost accessed a particularly interesting looking database when the door chime went off.

"Damn it," he muttered. Now really wasn't the time. He wasn't in the mood for visitors.

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	21. Chapter 21

**Complications**

**Chapter 21**

**Stardate 2260.88**

Rubbing his face and exiting from the screen he was on, Jim stood. Glancing down he figured he was presentable enough. He'd taken off his command shirt and boots, but it was his quarters, so he could dress however he wanted. The other person would just have to deal.

He honestly had no idea who would be calling on him at this time of night and he really wasn't in the mood; he'd finally been making some progress on the systems firewalls and now he would have to start from scratch. It wasn't that late, but it wasn't exactly prime visiting hours, either. Bones would have commed him if he wanted a drink and anyone else knew that it was past Abby's bedtime.

Triggering the door to open, Jim was unpleasantly surprised, though he shouldn't have been, to see Dr. Marcus standing in front of him.

"Dr. Marcus – Carol," he greeted her, correcting himself after she playfully narrowed her eyes at him.

"Jim," she said coyly. "I thought – after the abrupt end to our dinner – that you might like to share a nightcap with me." She held up a bottle of wine.

"That's very kind of you," Jim replied, glancing back into the living area and trying to think of a reason to say no. "I was just doing some…research."

"Just one drink, Jim," she wheedled, smiling at him. "You're off duty and in your quarters. Surely you can have one drink with me? We barely had a chance to chat earlier."

"Well," Jim hesitated. He really wasn't interested in Dr. Marcus the way she was obviously interested in him, but he didn't want to be a bad host. "A drink sounds nice," he said, even managing to smile.

"Excellent," Carol grinned, handing him the bottle as she sauntered past him into the room.

Jim obligingly poured them each a glass of wine, trying to figure out if there was a way he could get her out of his cabin after only one glass. Not surprisingly, in years past he would have been interested in what she had to offer. She was exactly what people claimed was his type; tall, slender, with long, shapely legs and blonde hair – not that he was picky about hair color in general, but blondes were always nice. She was also highly intelligent, and that was always a turn on.

Things had changed and it wasn't just because Carol was physically the antithesis of short, curvy, curly brown-haired Marissa. Jim had learned that there was more to sex than just the physical aspects. He wanted the closeness and the intimacy that he had found with Marissa – in bed and out - and he still wasn't ready to try to find it with someone else, especially a virtual stranger.

"So, Jim," Carol spoke as she wandered across the living area to look at the stasis shelves filled with souvenirs and small pieces of artwork that Marissa had collected from the different worlds they had visited and that her father hadn't known about to demand their return. "Now this is what I expected in a captain's cabin. Is this Bakura crystal? And the picture…that's from Tritan IV, right?"

Jim shrugged. "I think so. The picture is from Tritan, I know. The crystal, I'm not sure. You're probably correct," he told her, sipping his wine and watching her from across the room.

She looked up at him with an amused smile. "Have you been to so many worlds that you can't remember them all?"

"Something like that," Jim smiled thinly.

"What about this piece?" Carol asked over her shoulder as she bent to look at one of the lower shelves, putting her ass on display. Jim looked it over, as she obviously wanted him too. He wasn't overly impressed. It was a nice ass, but it was missing a certain…fullness that he had come to appreciate. "The colors and details are exquisite, but not exactly like the other things in your collection."

"Which one?"

"Come here," she waved him over. "I promise not to bite."

Jim gave a small huffing laugh. Knowing he didn't have a choice, he crossed over to her and felt his stomach drop when he saw what she was looking at. The object that had grabbed her attention was a miniature portrait of Marissa and Abby that a local artist on Belgernon II had painted while they were picnicking on their first ever family outing off the _Enterprise_. The artist hadn't asked their permission, but it had been a slow, off season day, so he had taken a risk and painted it anyway, taking the chance that Jim would buy it once he saw it. And of course he had. The artist had perfectly captured Abby's joy and Marissa's happiness.

Carol was right, though. It wasn't up to the standard of the other knick knacks and souvenirs Marissa had from other places. She tended to pick things that were representative of the area they were visiting and not touristy riff raff. This was definitely for tourists, but the artist had been talented, and the paints he used were alive and bright. It almost looked more like an old fashioned photograph than a painted picture.

"May I hold it?" Carol asked, her hand already hovering over it.

"Please don't," Jim said quickly. "It's…it's very fragile and the paint…" he trailed off uncomfortably.

"Where is it from?" she asked, straightening and looking at him curiously.

"Belgernon," Jim replied. "It was done by a local artist at one of their beaches. Not a professional," Jim explained. "He painted on rocks and driftwood that he found along the beach. He'd polish and finish them smooth and then paint on them for tourists and off worlders."

"And you just happened to buy a picture of a mother and daughter?" she asked pointedly, watching him closely.

"No," Jim replied uncomfortably, not meeting her eyes and taking another sip of his wine before moving away.

Carol just watched him silently as he settled in a chair next to the couch. "You know, I've only been on this ship for a few days. I'm not exactly up on all the gossip. So when you ran out on me at dinner, I thought I'd ask around."

Jim felt himself blushing. He had hoped that she hadn't noticed his abrupt exit from dinner as the panic attack that it actually was.

"Your crew is remarkably loyal," she continued, moving over and sitting on the end of the couch near his chosen seat. "They really wouldn't tell me anything about you and I got the distinct impression from Dr. McCoy and Lieutenant Uhura that I should leave you alone."

Seeing the carefully concealed determination in her eyes, Jim sighed heavily. "What do you want to know?"

Cocking her head to the side and leveling her gaze at him, Carol seemed to think about it. "I have to admit, I was…excited to meet you. All you've done; all you've accomplished."

Jim had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at her earnestness.

"And your wild boy image," she grinned over at him and shrugged. "I was intrigued. I'm about to spend three years on a very remote outpost with a bunch of highly intelligent, but not so appealing scientists. I thought…"

"You thought you'd have one last fling with the bad boy captain of the _Enterprise_," Jim finished for her, not quite able to hide his scorn.

"Well, yes," she agreed, sheepishly. "It sounds so much worse when you say it that way."

Jim shrugged. He didn't care how it sounded.

"I mean, a captain can't, or rather shouldn't, mess around with his crew I imagine," she continued. "And I thought with your reputation…"

"I'd be more than willing to jump into bed with you," Jim said bluntly.

"Again," she shook her head, "it all sounded so much better in my mind." She took a sip of her wine and seemed to gather her thoughts. "I know you find me attractive. I've seen you look at me."

Jim took a sip of his wine and shrugged noncommittally. He probably had checked her out, not that he remembered doing it specifically. There was no denying that she was an attractive woman and that she made an effort to play up her attributes, even in her uniform.

"But you also seem a bit…afraid of me," she finished.

"I'm not afraid of you," Jim immediately countered. "I'm not," he protested again at her dubious look. "I'm uncomfortable. I know what you want; you haven't exactly been subtle about it."

"True," she nodded. "I thought you might prefer a more straight forward approach."

"Usually, I would," Jim agreed. "But now…my answer is no. I'm flattered, but not interested."

Carol cocked her head and watched him carefully as she finished off her wine. "Who is she?" she finally asked, nodding back towards the miniature.

"My…" Jim faltered. It was still hard to put a label on what Marissa was to him. "Marissa. Her name is Marissa," he finished, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

"Marissa," Carol repeated, as if testing out the sound of the name. "And the baby?"

"Our daughter."

This seemed to come as a surprise. "You have a daughter?"

Jim nodded. "As I just said."

"Where is she?" Carol asked curiously. "With her mother?"

"She's here. On the _Enterprise_," Jim told her.

Again this seemed to be a surprise to her and she started looking around the living area; finally seeing the mini piano and the colorful toy bins tucked on a shelf near the dining table.

"And her mother?"

Even though Jim knew the question was coming, he still felt the air go out of his lungs. "She's gone. Dead," he said abruptly, forcing the word past his lips. Finishing off his drink, he leaned forward to pour another glass, not wanting to see the look of pity, or worse, a predatory gleam, in her eyes.

"Oh Jim," Carol whispered softly, her voice dripping with sympathy. "I am so sorry. How… how long ago?"

"Three months," he told her, startled to feel her hand on his arm as she leaned forward.

"And you're raising your daughter all on your own?"

Jim shrugged, sitting back and letting Carol's hand fall away. "I have a lot of help."

"I'm sure you do," Carol smiled at him. "As I said before, your crew is incredibly loyal. I knew something was up, but…" she shrugged. "I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

"Not your fault," Jim shook his head in dismissal.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Carol poured herself another drink and sipped at it. Jim held his glass absently in his hand, twisting it and watching the purple liquid shimmer in the light.

"I'd like to be your friend," Carol finally spoke, "if you don't mind. I won't be on the ship much longer, but I think we're…suited. I'd also like to meet your daughter, if that's all right."

Jim looked over at her, trying to gauge her sincerity and then shrugged. He didn't understand how they could be 'suited' if they'd only even spoken a handful of times. "It's not like I've been hiding her. I just don't normally parade her around when we're transporting people. There's enough speculation about me and my past, I don't want her to become another topic of 'what's going on in Jim Kirk's life,'" he told her honestly, trying not to sound bitter. "We have our routine and it works for us."

"Do you visit Ten Forward with her?"

"Sometimes, when I'm not on shift or there's a social event that's okay for kids," Jim answered.

Carol's smile brightened. "I know Gregor is trying to organize something with your yeoman. Perhaps I could meet her then?"

"I suppose," Jim agreed. "She likes visiting Ten Forward."

Sitting back into her seat and curling one leg under her, Carol looked at Jim and smiled. "How old is she? And what's her name?" she asked, looking as if she was settling in for a comfy chat. "Relax, Jim," she admonished when he didn't immediately respond. "I have no ulterior motives. Like I said, I think we're suited. We could be friends. Tell me about your daughter."

Jim hesitated. He really wasn't used to talking with anyone about Abby except for Marissa and members of his crew. Taking one more sip of wine, he let out a deep breath and then started talking.

"Her name is Abby and she's almost twenty-two months old…"

With Carol's probing questions and open interest Jim found himself telling her about Abby and all her amazing accomplishments; his father's pride obvious. Their conversation eventually segued into interesting stories about life on the _Enterprise_, stories about mutual acquaintances and instructors at the academy, and Carol's research.

Before Jim knew it, the wine bottle was empty and two hours had passed. Once the conversation had moved on to topics other than Abby, Jim had barely thought of Marissa and his almost constant grief. He'd even almost laughed a few times, something he hadn't done without Abby around since Marissa had gone away. He looked over at Carol in surprise and shock. He'd actually enjoyed spending the evening with her now that he didn't feel that he had to be on his guard.

She smiled fondly at him, reading his thoughts with apparent ease. "This was nice," she told him.

"It was," he agreed.

"I imagine it's been a while since you've let yourself just relax and talk with someone who isn't a member of your crew."

"I guess so," Jim smiled sheepishly.

"Maybe we could try dinner again, sometime?" she asked as she stood up, placing her glass on the table and then stretching like a cat.

Jim's shields immediately went up and the relaxed mellowness he had been feeling evaporated. She'd lulled him with wine and conversation, but was she still…

"We could include Dr. McCoy and Lieutenant Uhura," she continued, interrupting his thoughts. "He seemed very interesting, in a blunt sort of way, and I'd love a chance to talk more with a woman who has come so far, so fast. She has quite the resume."

Relaxing again, Jim nodded. "We could probably arrange something like that. We could include a few of your coworkers, if you like."

"Only if you must," Carol smirked at him. "I'll be spending enough time with them as it is, but…" she shrugged. "It's your ship, your call."

Standing, Jim nodded. "I'll have Rand arrange something casual before we drop you off."

Walking towards the door, Carol turned back towards him. "And I'll get to meet Abby whenever Gregor gets his social organized, right?"

"I'll bring her," Jim agreed, smiling slightly.

Taking a step towards him, Carol leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Jim's cheek. "Thank you for tonight. It was very nice to meet Jim, instead of Captain Kirk."

"You're, uh, welcome," Jim replied, a bit taken aback by the kiss and her words. She was right again, though. At some point during their conversation he had dropped his captain's persona that he kept tightly wrapped around him at all times, unless he was with Abby. And it had felt nice. Like it had when he talked with…

He froze, his heart suddenly thumping heavily in his chest.

"Good night, Carol," he told her, a bit more brusquely than he meant to. "I'm sure we'll see each other around the ship."

"Good night, Jim," she replied, her smile a bit dimmer as she caught on to his mood change.

Without another word she left his quarters, the scent of her perfume wafting behind her. Jim stared at the door wondering what the hell had just happened. He hadn't wanted anything to do with Dr. Carol Marcus and yet he had just spent over two hours drinking wine and chatting with her like an old friend.

Bones and Uhura and everyone else were always telling him that he needed to relax and be himself more often and it had felt good at the time, but now; now he had the feeling that he had somehow betrayed Marissa and he didn't like it at all. He'd done nothing but talk, but it still felt…wrong, now that it was over.

Glancing at the chrono he realized that Abby would be up in a little less than six hours and he really needed to get some sleep. Maybe in the morning he'd feel differently.

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	22. Chapter 22

**Complications**

**Chapter 22**

**Stardate 2260.89**

"Abby come back here!" Jim called as he watched his daughter streak away from him – literally, a wet towel clutched uselessly in his hand. She wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing and her hair was plastered wetly to her head.

"No," she replied, giggling as she began to play her piano.

"At least let me dry your hair," Jim said in exasperation now standing in the doorway.

"No jammies?" she looked at him, her eyes narrowed and wary.

Jim nodded. "No jammies for now, but you tell me if you have to go potty, okay?"

"O-tay," she replied absently, already turned back to her piano, reaching to turn up the volume.

Jim sighed. "Not too loud," he told her as he lowered the volume and then began rubbing her hair with the towel. He figured he'd wait a few minutes and then try to slip a diaper on her. There was no way she'd remember to tell him if she had to go pee while she was playing music and he wasn't up for cleaning another mess.

Over the past few weeks Abby seemed to have gained an aversion to clothing – at least in their quarters. He'd managed to get her dressed every morning, but only by letting her choose whatever she wanted to wear. There had been some really interesting outfits, that was for sure. He was just waiting for the day when she really balked. Knowing his luck it would be one morning when he had an important meeting or vidcomm. Then he would have to drag her naked to daycare and hope that Daugherty could get her dressed.

"Computer raise temperature to 24 degrees Celsius," he commanded as he finished drying her hair. Going into his room he changed into his sleep shorts and t-shirt. He might as well be comfortable too.

Both McCoy and Joell Daugherty assured him that her streaking tendencies were totally normal and an expression of her growth and her awareness of her body. It was probably encouraged by all the swimming they'd been doing recently in the evenings. A swimsuit was a lot less constricting than regular clothes, but it was still disconcerting to pick Abby up from daycare, leave her in the living room, and start fixing dinner only to turn around and be faced with a naked toddler. She was damn good – and quick – at getting out of her clothes.

Jim found it funny, so aside from the occasional mess, he let her be free. If they had visitors he usually managed to coerce her into a diaper, though she hotly declared that Uncle Bones and Pasha were not visitors and point blank refused to don anything. McCoy took it in stride. Chekov had blushed fiercely during his first naked visit a few weeks ago.

But not only was she becoming aware of her body, she was becoming aware of the differences, too. It had been absolutely hilarious a couple days ago when Sulu and Chekov had visited after dinner and Abby had loudly asked if Chekov had a penis. She'd actually pronounced it 'peeis,' which had confused Chekov. When he asked if she had to go potty, she'd shaken her head in toddler exasperation and looked over at Jim.

"Pasha has boy parts, dada?" she'd demanded.

Sulu had started laughing, though he managed to cover it with a coughing fit while Chekov had turned bright red.

"Yes, Abby, Pasha has boy parts," he replied seriously, extremely proud of himself for not grinning like a fool.

"And Swulu?" she'd asked innocently.

That had shut his pilot up.

"Yes, and Sulu," Jim agreed. "Daddy and Pasha and Sulu are all boys and we have boy parts called penises."

"And Uncle…"

"Abby," Jim interrupted her with a small smile. "We can talk about this later. Right now we have visitors and we should talk about what they want to, okay?"

She cocked her head and looked at him and he could see the gears clicking away as she decided whether to protest or not.

"Why don't you play us a song?" he suggested.

"O-tay," she said happily, all other thoughts gone as she pranced over to her piano and sat down. "Wisten, Pasha!"

"I am listening, Kotik," Chekov replied immediately.

They listened for a few minutes until it was obvious that she no longer knew they were in the room any more. 

"Sorry about that, guys," Jim told them sheepishly. "She walked in on me in the shower and had some interesting questions for me this morning." He shrugged. "What else was I supposed to say?"

"It's okay, Captain," Sulu smiled. "Honesty is the best policy, right? It just caught us off guard."

"Da!" Chekov agreed, nodding his head rapidly, his eyes wide and his cheeks still flushed.

Jim shook his head, chuckling at the memory. Abby really had no filter and was quite the little chatterbox, even if only half of what she said actually made sense. Apparently she had enjoyed sharing her new found information with Joell and the kids in daycare. He couldn't wait until she asked Spock if he had boy parts. He just hoped he was there for it.

"Abby, do you have to go potty?" he asked as he came back into the living area. "Abby?" he tapped her lightly on top of the head. "Potty?"

She shook her head and returned to her music, humming along with it. He could almost recognize some of the notes.

Grabbing a PADD he was just about to sit down on the couch when the door chimed. Guests weren't unfamiliar at this time of night, but he hadn't been expecting anyone. McCoy had mentioned possibly stopping by before Abby went to bed, so Jim opened the door with a smile; a smile that quickly faded when he realized who was standing in front of him - Ensign Veronique Meredith.

Never before had he been so aware of how few clothes he was wearing. His t-shirt was worn thin and soft from all the use it had seen during his Academy days and while his shorts almost reached his knees, he was painfully aware that he wasn't wearing anything underneath them. Why would he? He was planning to sleep in them. That, combined with his bare feet, made him feel extremely vulnerable.

"Ensign," he nodded stiffly, trying to smile, but afraid it came out as more of a grimace.

"Captain," she nodded in return. "I was hoping that we could…that I could talk to you," she began slowly. "I was told that you didn't mind visitors in the evening, but if you are…"

"No, no," Jim shook his head. He had a bad feeling in his stomach as soon as he'd opened the door, but he wasn't going to turn her away. She was a member of his crew and she had every right to seek him out if she wanted to talk. He would have preferred that she choose some time during their respective shifts, but he was a big boy. And perhaps he might finally figure out if she was on the ship with an ulterior motive. He could take care of himself. At least Abby would be a distraction. "Come in."

"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked politely.

"Some water would be lovely," she replied, stepping into the room and obviously noticing the warmth. 

"Sorry about the heat," Jim said as the door closed and he made his way to the kitchen. "Abby likes to…uh… go naked after her bath and I've learned not to fight it. I just turn up the heat so she doesn't get cold." He inwardly debated getting a diaper for Abby, but decided not to bother. He didn't want to start a tantrum that might lengthen the ensign's visit.

"Very wise," Ensign Meredith replied. "You don't want to have a power struggle over something as natural as nudity. Though if you kept the temperature normal, she might want to put her clothes on sooner rather than later," she suggested with a small smile.

"Uh, I'll keep that in mind," Jim replied, handing her a glass. "I'm just trying to avoid a tantrum if at all possible," he admitted.

"Also very wise," she smiled. Setting her drink down on the end table, Ensign Meredith went over to Abby and squatted by the piano putting her at Abby's height. "Hello Abby," she said softly. "You play the piano beautifully."

"Who you?" Abby asked, looking at this new woman and then at Jim.

"Abby, this is Veronique Meredith, she works down at the library with Ms. Maria," Jim told her. He waited to see how Abby would react. She rarely had a problem with strangers, but there was always the first time.

"You can call me Veronique," the ensign offered. "Or Ronnie, if you like."

"V'wronique," Abby tried out the name. "V'wronique. O-tay," she nodded, turning back to her piano.

Ensign Meredith stood up, her eyes still on Abby. "She looks so much like Marissa," she whispered. "She has your eyes," she said, looking up at Jim, her own eyes misty, "but she looks just like her mother."

"Yeah, she does," Jim agreed, his throat a bit tighter, even as he tried to figure out if this was going to be her angle to get at him.

He hadn't wanted a new xenohistorian on the _Enterprise_; even though he knew that the position was an important one. He hadn't wanted to replace Marissa. And when he had seen the person that had apparently been hand picked for him, he was immediately wary. He, and every male on the ship, was aware of Ensign Meredith's ample attractions. Even wearing a worn pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and without makeup, she managed to exude sex appeal.

Tenial had come at him in full sexed-out mode; high heels, tight pants and provocative, low cut shirt. Carol was trying to become his friend; though she said she wanted nothing more, Jim didn't quite trust her. Meredith was apparently going a different route, down playing her beauty. She had known Marissa, so she knew that Marissa didn't necessarily play up her looks, which were actually more of a cuteness when compared to Meredith. He had fallen for Marissa because of her wit and personality and heart, as well as her great ass.

"It must be so hard on you," Meredith spoke as she sat down in the armchair across from Abby.

Jim shrugged. What could he say to that? Of course it was hard. "We're managing," he finally said, as he took a seat on the couch.

"I can't tell you how sorry I was when I heard what happened to Marissa," she told him. "I was on Earth at the time. I managed to go to her funeral in Colorado." She hesitated. "It was nice. I guess. As nice as a funeral can be. They never said anything about you. At the service, I mean."

It was what he had expected, of course, but it still hurt. "I'm not surprised," he told her. "Her father doesn't really like me."

"He was wrecked," she told him, shaking her head sadly. "Marissa didn't say much about him while we were at the Academy, but he'd visit occasionally. He seemed to make her uncomfortable. It was like he was proud of her, but also disapproving at the same time. He never seemed to be happy with anything."

"He didn't want her to join Starfleet," Jim commented. "And he really didn't want her on a ship. Not after the _Narada_."

"But Marissa was strong and she knew what she wanted," Meredith stated. "She knew where she wanted to be."

"Yeah, she did," Jim agreed, his eyes still on Abby.

"It wasn't until after the funeral when I talked to Marissa's step-mom, uh…"

"Nancy," Jim supplied.

"Yes, Nancy. She's the one who told me about you and Abby. About how they got to visit her on Stratnon when she received her award because you arranged it and how good it made her feel to see Marissa so well settled and happy, even if she was up in space and so far away from her family."

Jim didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. He hadn't spoken with Matthew or Nancy since he had tried to deliver the news of what happened on M'Qtobau. Since then it had been nothing but lawyers. He still didn't know if Nancy had been involved in the lawsuit or not.

"All our professors were there," Meredith continued, "at least the ones still on or near Earth. And it seemed like half the town turned out, too. She was apparently a bit of a celebrity for small town Colorado. Doctors Greggan and Larkham spoke and Aja Killian sent in a lovely video."

"That's…that's good. Nice," Jim said hoarsely when he felt he had to say something. Why did they always try to break his heart before they offered to fix it, he wondered of the women who tried to proposition him. Didn't they realize that his heart was already shattered? "What…what did her stone say?" he found himself asking, squeezing his eyes shut at his stupidity. Was he a masochist?

"Her name and her birth and death dates," Meredith said softly. "Marissa Rose O'Donnell. Beloved daughter. Mother of Abigail."

"I'm glad Abby was mentioned," Jim finally said, after swallowing heavily several times.

They were silent for several minutes, both lost in thought and watching Abby. The toddler paused in her playing and got a funny look on her face.

"Uh oh," Jim whispered, leaping off the couch and reaching for the potty chair Joell had let him borrow from the daycare. "Abby, do you have to go potty?" he asked, even as he picked her up and sat her down on the potty chair.

She shook her head, but then scrunched up her face and eventually the sound of pee tinkling into the potty filled the room. When she finished she looked up at Jim with an amazed look on her face and grinned.

"I go potty!" she crowed.

"You went potty!" Jim agreed, hugging her as she sat. "Just like a big girl!"

"I's a big girl!" clapping her hands and bouncing on the potty chair.

"Yes you are," Jim smiled. "Now hold still. It's time to wipe and then we have to take the pee and put it in the toilet and wash our hands, okay?"

"Ensign, could you…?" he began, but Ensign Meredith was already standing behind him with a box of tissues.

"Good job, Abby," she told the smiling toddler.

"Tanks, 'Nique!" Abby grinned. "I's a big girl now."

"Yes you are," Meredith agreed.

It took a few minutes and Abby flushing the toilet three times before hands were washed and everything was cleaned up.

"Wow," Jim said sitting back on the couch and grinning as Abby, still naked, played with her guys. "That was…"

"First time?"

"Yeah," Jim nodded, still smiling. "We've had the potty chair for a couple weeks, but normally she just pees wherever she happens to be. She hasn't shown any interest in the chair."

"It takes time," Meredith told him, "but she'll get the hang of it. She's a smart girl."

"Yeah, she is," Jim agreed. Smiling. Who would have thought he'd feel so proud that a toddler had managed to pee in her potty chair?

"Captain," Meredith spoke after watching Abby for a few minutes and letting him bask in his daughter's new achievement.

"Yes, Ensign," Jim replied, tensing slightly as he turned to face her. "I suppose you'd like to talk about whatever brought you here tonight."

"I guess so," she said. "I don't mean to intrude on your time with Abby."

"It's not a problem," Jim assured her. "My door is always open for my crewmembers, Ensign."

She smiled wryly at him. "We are off duty, you know. You can call me Veronique." She took in his suddenly wary expression and her smile faded. "Or not," she finished. "Look, I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. You can call me Ensign or Meredith. I don't mind. I…"

"Let's just move on to what you're here for, okay?" Jim interrupted, trying not to look relieved.

"Okay," she agreed before taking a deep breath. "First off, I wanted to tell you again what an honor it is to serve on the _Enterprise_. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that I'd be transferred here. Everyone has been great; very friendly and welcoming. I know it's hard because it seems like I'm replacing Marissa, and in some ways I am, but… I don't mean to. This was her ship first and I just want to do the best job I can for you and everyone on board."

"I do appreciate that," Jim told her. "I've heard nothing but good things from Roose and Spock. I'm sorry your first mission was cancelled, but that's life."

"Politics, you mean."

"That too," Jim agreed, wondering how much she'd figured out.

"Look, I don't know how much you know about xenohistory, and xenohistorians in particular," she continued on, "but there are two main types; those who study individual planets or cultures or beings and those who tend to take a broader approach, like Marissa, and study the interactions as well as the roots of different cultures."

Jim nodded. "Marissa did explain some of that to me."

"Well, I'm one of the first types of historians," she told him. She looked at him expectantly.

"You're one of the first…" he trailed off, thinking about what she had just said. "You prefer to study one particular culture?"

"Yes."

"You don't want to be here," he guessed.

"Not really," she told him honestly, unable to look at him. "The _Enterprise_ is a great ship and it's an honor to be selected, but…no, I was very happy living on Dreon VII and working with the Bajoran refugees there. They're treated so deplorably across the galaxy, yet their belief system and culture are such an important part of so many other societies that reject them out of hand. I was just beginning to open up a discussion with the Maquis regarding their treatment of the Bajorans and…now I'm here." She seemed to deflate, but Jim had recognized her passion for what she studied, or had been studying.

"I don't know what to say," he answered, looking at her sympathetically. "I appreciate your honesty, but I have no control over your assignment here. I can make a request for a new xenohistorian, but that could reflect badly on you, no matter what I say to the contrary. And you might not end up back on Dreon VII."

"I realize that," she sighed, "and I know this is putting you in an awkward situation, but I think we both know why I was assigned to the _Enterprise_."

"We do?" Jim asked warily. He knew what he thought, and Spock and McCoy mostly agreed with him, even though they both thought he was being a bit paranoid, but what did Ensign Meredith think?

"I'm blonde, but I'm not stupid," Meredith smirked at him. "And I make it a point to get to know as much as I can about the people I'm serving with. I like to know where the pitfalls and traps could be and who I can trust. I know you are under investigation by IA and I know that one of the charges that could have been leveled, but wasn't, was sexual harassment. This tells me they didn't have enough evidence, so when I got on the ship I asked around a little and found out that there is a woman in cartography who is now practically a pariah because she said you tried to seduce her, but then turned her away, so she started spreading rumors about you and Marissa."

Jim's eyebrows were up to his hairline. "You do fast work," he said with admiration. "You've only been on the ship for a couple weeks."

"I'm a historian," she shrugged. "I know how to ask questions and correlate information. I can also read people pretty well, and Ensign Tenial is a bitter woman with an axe to grind. She's also an attention hog who likes to think she's the biggest fish in the sea."

"I don't think I have anything to say to that," Jim said slowly.

"I don't blame you," Meredith shrugged. "So, I put two and two together. From the sound of it they aren't going to get you on the charges IA put together. Greene is fit to be tied and not happy to be here digging for something he doesn't think he's going to find."

"Really?" Jim asked, sitting forward slightly. This was news to him.

"Really," Meredith nodded. "Greene doesn't particularly care for women, but his little helper likes to strut his stuff when he's had one too many."

"Good to know," Jim smiled lightly. Maybe he'd send in McCoy to loosen the man up with a few beers and see what he could find out. He'd noticed that Commander Greene's expression had become even sourer as the days passed. He hadn't thought it was a good thing, until now.

"So if they aren't going to get you with the IA investigation, they can try for sexual harassment," she summed up. "Enter me as a back up plan. Not to sound arrogant, but I do know what I look like and I do know how people perceive me. And I know enough of your history that I would have been the type of woman you went for in the past."

"Would have?" Jim questioned in amusement.

"Yes, would have. In fact, you probably don't remember, but you did hit on me once. It would have been in your first semester," she told him with a smirk. "I was at Jack Finnegan's with a group of friends and you sauntered up and asked me to dance."

"Oh god," Jim felt himself turning red as he palmed his face in embarrassment. "Please tell me you turned me down," Jim pleaded, peeking out from between his fingers.

"Oh, I did, but you were persistent," she grinned. "But I was involved with someone and eventually a man – I think it was Dr. McCoy – dragged you away. You were pretty drunk."

"I'm so, so sorry," Jim told her. "My first semester… first year really, I was an ass hole."

"No harm, no foul," she told him. "You were a charming drunk, at least."

"Great."

"But what I was trying to say was, I was sent in here as…bait, I guess," she shrugged. "I should have been suspicious when Admiral Franks contacted me personally to let me know of my new assignment. I was so stunned that I'd have to give up my research that I really didn't listen to him, but he did say that I could contact him at any time about anything that might make me uncomfortable or that I didn't like about my assignment. He said something, and I really wish I could remember what exactly, about you still being a new captain and not knowing all the proper protocols and not always having proper interactions with your crewmembers and I was to tolerate nothing that made me even the slightest bit uncomfortable."

"Really," Jim said dryly, but this time he was pissed. She _had_ been a set up.

"Really," Meredith nodded. "It wasn't until I met you and you looked so…wary, that I really recalled his words and realized that I was a set up for you. But obviously, they don't know you or understand you."

"And you do?" Jim asked, not meaning to be rude, but simply curious.

"Better than they do," she said. "I knew Marissa and any man who was involved with her… he's not going jump anything with a pretty face and long legs, even if he once did. Marissa was special and if you were half as happy as her step mother said you were, it's going to take more than looks to make you make any kind of advances on a crewmember."

"I'm glad not everyone believes I only think with my dick," Jim said wryly.

"Maybe once, but not anymore," she said bluntly. "I not only asked around about the investigation and the disgruntled crewmember. I also asked about you and Marissa. Because I was her colleague people tend to open up and tell me a lot more than they would to a stranger. The man your crewmembers described is not about to fall for someone like me just because I show up on your ship."

"Well, I'm glad we're both on the same page," Jim finally said. "Not that I don't find you attractive, I'm just not even remotely interested, even if you were offering."

"Right back at you, Captain," she winked. "Which brings me to my second reason for coming here…"

"Shoot," Jim waved a hand to encourage her, finally feeling totally relaxed in her presence.

"I don't think there is a way for me to get reassigned back to Dreon VII," she said sadly. "At least not anytime soon and I can deal with that. I am fully capable of performing as Marissa did on this ship, running and updating her database and following up with my project with the Bajorans in my spare time. Now that I'm here I'm actually kind of excited. It's something new and different."

"I'm glad," Jim told her, with a dry smile. "I'd hate for Spock to have to write you up for performance issues."

"That won't be happening, Captain," she told him. "I take pride in my work." She glanced over at Abby. "Commander Roose mentioned that because of all this investigation stuff you've had to pay the crewmembers that watch over Abby."

"True," Jim agreed. "Do you want to make some extra credits?"

"No," she shook her head, "not that I wouldn't mind watching Abby if you needed it. But Commander Roose also mentioned that you were starting to look for someone who could officially be her nanny and also perform duties on the ship as needed."

"Yes," Jim said, confused at where she was going with this line of questioning. "It's been harder than I thought. Most cadets and Starfleet members are on a specific track or have a specialty or interest. And those that are interested in childcare and childhood education are already on a ship or don't want to be."

"What if I know someone?"

"I'm listening."

"When I left Dreon VII not only did I leave behind my research and contacts, I left behind my partner," she told him. "We've been together for three years, but since we weren't married or bonded in anyway…" she shrugged, looking over at him.

"You had to leave them and come to the _Enterprise_," Jim finished for him. He felt immense sympathy for her. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," she sighed. "But when I heard that you were looking for a nanny for Abby…" she looked up at him hopefully.

Jim sat back, feeling put on the spot. Now that Ensign Meredith wasn't a threat and someone he had to handle with care, he wanted to help her. And he did want someone who could help with Abby and also in the daycare or around the ship as needed, but he had been thinking about a female. Abby had no problem dealing with men and she was very close to both McCoy and Chekov, but whenever he had thought of a nanny…

"She's got her degree in early childhood education and has been teaching kindergarten at the Starfleet elementary school on base," Meredith began talking as Jim continued to hesitate. "She loves kids and worked in a nursery/preschool while we were at the Academy. She wants to do her Doctorate work on early childhood literacy. She…"

"Wait, wait," Jim held up a hand, her words finally sinking in. "She?" he asked.

Meredith nodded stiffly. "Yes, she. I'm gay."

"Really?" Jim asked, a grin spreading across his face. He started chuckling and it got worse when Meredith glared at him.

"Really, Captain," she bit out, crossing her arms. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Jim shook his head, still laughing lightly. "No. Not at all."

"Then why the hell are you laughing?" she hissed at him.

"I'm sorry," he replied, trying to control himself. "It's just…Franks and Dekker…they really suck at research. I mean, first on Stratnon and now this. They send a gorgeous, but gay, historian to try to seduce me and then charge me with sexual harassment."

"I was never told to seduce you," Meredith replied, but she'd relaxed a bit and was beginning to smile too.

"No, they expected me to seduce you because you're gorgeous," Jim said, waving a hand up and down to encompass all of her. "You've got half my crew tied up in knots and the other half wanting to scratch your eyes out."

"You're exaggerating," she protested, though Jim was sure she was blushing a little.

"Maybe," he winked. "What's her name? Your partner?"

"Clove Breathnacht," she told him. "You'll put in a request?"

Jim nodded. "I think Daugherty could make a case for another pair of hands, and I've worked out a contract with Greene for covering some of a nanny's salary myself so that Starfleet will be happy. It will all depend on Abby," Jim warned her. "If they hit it off, great, she can split her time. If not, she's full time in the daycare or whatever department she's qualified for and wants to work in. She might not like that."

"Abby will love her," Meredith declared. "All the kids do. And I think she'll be happy to do anything, as long as we're together."

Jim smiled sadly. "I know the feeling," he admitted.

"I'm sure you do."

"So, Veronique," Jim said clapping his hands together and rubbing them in anticipation. "You get me her information, I'll have Rand put together a request and hopefully we'll see your Clove on the _Enterprise_ soon."

She looked at him with a curious expression. "You can call me by my name now?"

"Sure," Jim grinned. "You're not interested in me. I'm not interested in you. We can be friends."

"Okay…Jim," she smiled back at him mischievously. "I suppose I shouldn't tell you, but I had a bit of a crush on Marissa at the Academy. She wasn't interested – if she was even aware – and then she started dating that idiot Gary Mitchell and my hopes were crushed."

"It just shows that you have excellent taste in woman," Jim shrugged, with a smile. "I can't hold that against you."

"I always imagined she'd be an adventurous one once she found the right guy," Veronique commented.

"You have no idea," Jim smirked, before standing up. "Abby, I think it's bedtime. Can you say good night to Miss Veronique?"

Without a single complaint, Abby went into Jim's arms, grabbing for his collar.

"Nite, 'Nique," Abby said drowsily.

"Good night, Abby," Veronique smiled. "Good night, Jim. And thank you. For everything."

"I haven't managed it yet," Jim protested.

"You will," she said with assurance. "Marissa was a really lucky woman to have you two." With a quick move, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thanks for making her happy."

Jim watched, speechless, as she quickly left his quarters. He hoped she was right. He hoped he had made Marissa at least half as happy as she had made him.

_Please review_


	23. Chapter 23

**Complications**

**Chapter 23**

**Stardate 2260.90**

Jim entered Ten Forward slowly, Abby in his arms. He surveyed the gathering, relieved to see that it was crowded enough that their entrance didn't draw much more attention than some nods from crewmembers nearby. Dr. Paul Gregor had organized this gathering in cooperation with Rand in order to welcome the last member of their research team, Dr. Omus Sevrin from the planet Tiburon, who had arrived this morning via shuttle. It also happened to be the final evening that the scientists would be aboard. Tomorrow they would be dropped off at Regula I and the _Enterprise_ would be free.

Apparently Sevrin was a highly sought after acoustical and communication scientist and the research team had worked hard to convince him to join their venture. He'd only just decided to come to Regula I and Dr. Gregor was ecstatic. Jim wasn't so sure that one person in a highly intelligent, well recognized group could be that important, but Gregor seemed to think so.

Hearing voices behind him, Jim moved away from the entrance and down the side, circling the room and heading towards the bar. He'd promised to attend and he'd told Dr. Marcus that he'd bring Abby, but that didn't mean he wanted to stay longer than necessary.

Dr. Sevrin's entrance was nothing less than theatrical. He wore a long cape and brightly colored, flowing genie's pants. His chest was bare, as was his bald head, while his larger than human ears were adorned with many hoops and rings of metal. He paused dramatically in the doorway, one hand pressed to his chest, surveying the room and simultaneously allowing everyone a good opportunity to look at him.

"Greetings! My fellow seekers of truth!" his declared, his booming voice drawing every eye that was not previously focused on him. "Ah, the wonders we will achieve on Regula I. I know that you too are eager to arrive at our new home, though sad to leave such wonderful hosts," he said bowing extravagantly, one leg extended and his head practically touching his knee, to the assembled _Enterprise_ crewmembers who were staring at him with varying expressions of bemusement.

"Dr. Sevrin!" Gregor strode forward, his smile wide as he held out his hand in welcome. "Welcome to our team. I'm Paul Gregor, director of the…"

"Yes, yes," Sevrin nodded, his smile fading slightly. "You are the man that gave Gregorian I its power. Well done sir, well done," he said patronizingly, patting Gregor on the back. "I am sure countless previously lost pilots sing your praises each time they plug into the nav systems with your name. I've used your gadget myself for a few short jaunts. Superb workmanship! And who might this be?" his eyes turned to track Dr. Marcus who was walking up behind Gregor. "Enchanted, my lady. I'm Omus Sevrin." Bending over her hand he briefly brushed his lips across her knuckles, as he leered up at her.

Jim chuckled at the barely restrained look of disgust on Carol's face as she tried to politely remove her hand from the man's grip.

"Dr. Sevrin, how nice to meet you," she managed to smile. "I'm Carol Marcus. I'll be working on the programming of the matter conversion software with Dr. Saleed Salehi," she explained as she turned to the gentleman next to her.

"Dr. Sevrin," Salehi bowed slightly. "Welcome. I am looking forward to examining your algorithms of syntax of the Cabreeni and comparing those to the Eisnevuls planets."

Sevrin looked as if something smelled funny. "You want to _examine_ my work?" he asked incredulously. "I'll have you know my work is above reproach. You are welcome to use my published tracts for resources, but there can be no question of any amendments," he conceded graciously, patting Salehi on the shoulder.

Looking away in obvious dismissal, Servin's smile widened again as he spotted someone else. "Dr. Hephzibah, at last!" he called as he turned his back on his three other colleagues and swooped down on a small, dark-haired man with stooped shoulders.

Carol turned to Salehi and said something before leading him towards the bar where Jim was standing. She smiled wryly at Jim. "I can see we're just not exciting enough for him. This ought to be lots of fun!"

"I can just imagine," Jim replied. "He looks a bit like a peacock. And struts like one too."

Carol laughed lightly, her eyes on Abby. Jim had given her a cup of shaved ice with raspberry sauce and she was concentrating on getting her spoon to her mouth while sitting on a stool at the bar, her back to the adults as she enjoyed her treat.

"Why did we recruit him again?" Salehi questioned in consternation. "He won't last a minute on a remote outpost with no audience for his displays. Although his work requires isolation and silence," he added thoughtfully. "Maybe we'll be spared too much of his company."

Jim shrugged sympathetically. He certainly didn't want to work with that man. Over the next few minutes they sipped their chosen drinks and watched Gregor follow Sevrin around the room as he introduced himself to anyone who interested him, all the while ignoring his supposed boss. Finally Gregor gave up trying to make any introductions on his own and came over to join them.

"Apparently he needs no introductions," Gregor sighed. "I hope he wasn't a bad choice."

"Nonsense, Gregor," Carol chuckled. "You've dealt with superegos before and you know they dig their own graves. I imagine Dr. Sevrin will turn out to be a source of entertainment for us all, and as Salehi said, he needs isolation and silence. I, for one, will gladly give it to him."

"Amen," Salehi raised his glass.

"Awl dun, dada," Abby announced turning to look at Jim. "Mowre?" she held out her bowl.

"Not tonight, Abby," Jim told her, taking the bowl and setting it on the bar. "You've had enough sweets and it's almost bedtime." Reaching for her napkin, he wiped off her face and hands.

Abby frowned up at him, her lower lip beginning to protrude.

"Who is this gorgeous little doll?" Carol interrupted brightly, one hand coming to rest on Jim's arm. "Please tell me you won't be leaving so soon. It's not that late." She smiled down at Abby, who looked at her suspiciously before reaching out for Jim, her eyes never leaving the strange woman in front of her.

"Dr. Marcus, er, Carol, this is Abby. Abby, can you say hello to Dr. Marcus?" Jim asked looking down at his daughter who had tucked her head under his chin and was clutching at his shirt. She pulled Sehlat in closer so that very little of her face was visible as she continued to stare balefully, not saying a word.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Mar…, uh, Carol," Jim apologized, baffled by Abby's actions. "She isn't normally like this."

"That's okay, Jim," Carol smiled up at him. "I understand. She's just shy."

"Uh, sure," Jim replied, knowing that Abby was anything but shy, but willing to let Carol think that.

"Captain," Gregor interrupted the awkward silence. "Would you like to meet Dr. Sevrin? And I don't believe you've met Dr. Hephzibah or Dr. Noonan yet."

"I'd be honored," Jim replied with a nod, but just as he was turning to follow Gregor, Abby spied Chekov. "Pasha! Pasha!" she screeched in happiness, leaning out of Jim's arms and nearly falling in her excitement.

Fortunately Chekov was quick on his feet and he grabbed her before Jim could completely lose his grip.

"Thanks man," Jim heaved a sigh. "She's getting quicker and quicker. You okay watching her for a while?" he asked.

"Da, keptin," Chekov nodded. "Kotik and I will wander and wisit with our friends."

"Actually, Pavel," Jim said, reaching out and grabbing the younger man's arm before he could escape. "Could you come with me for a bit? I'd like you to meet the research team we're taking to Regula I."

"Of course, Keptin," Chekov replied, though his confusion was evident. He'd met most of the team already, but he had unwittingly just become the second layer of body armor for Jim, the first being Abby. Being a good friend, and subordinate, Chekov trailed along toward the group of oddly mixed scientists clustered on the far side of the room near the viewport. Paul Gregor began the rounds of names and titles again, but was once more interrupted by Sevrin who, with his booming voice, descended on Abby as soon as he spotted her.

"What a delightful child! I must hold her. Come here, little one!"

Jim began to move forward to intervene, but Abby, apparently intrigued, held out her little arms and gave the ostentatious man a big toothy smile. Abandoning her Pasha, she patted Sevrin's cheeks, and then began to investigate his ring-adorned ears. They must not have been sensitive because he let her pull and tug on the rings and hoops threaded through his flesh, not wincing at all.

"You are a most curious child," he smiled at her. He glanced over at Pasha, looking him up and down. "Your sister?"

"Uh…nyet," Chekov shook his head.

"Actually, Dr. Sevrin," Jim spoke, drawing his attention. "She's my daughter. Her name is Abby."

"Captain Kirk! Oh, yes, I see the resemblance now," Sevin nodded. "You have your daddy's eyes, poppet," he said, tapping her on the nose. "A most beautiful little girl. I must meet her mother."

Before Jim could even think to reply to that, the garrulous man carried Abby away, introducing her to all his colleagues. Chekov followed along, but Sevrin kept her in his arms, and Abby seemed perfectly content.

Sevrin once again tried to introduce Abby to Carol, but she instantly tucked herself into his chest and wouldn't speak to the blonde woman. Jim watched in amusement as Carol tried to gain Abby's attention, but nothing worked. Once Sevrin passed on, Carol came toward Jim once again.

"She definitely has your eyes," she said when she reached his side. "Sevrin has sure taken a liking to her. She's adorable Jim."

"Thanks."

"She must be quite the handful."

"She can be," Jim agreed. "But really, she's a great kid. Just watch out if she's tired. Then she gets really cranky."

"Don't we all," Carol agreed with wry humor. "I suppose it's understandable that she's shy around women."

"What?" Jim looked over at her curiously. Abby didn't have a shy bone in her body, no matter her odd reaction to Dr. Marcus. "Why?"

"Well, her mother's been gone for months now," Carol said carefully, looking at Jim from out of the corner of her eye. "Without a maternal influence…"

"Marissa's gone," Jim told her brusquely. "But she has plenty of female influences in her life. Abby and Uhura have a girl's night once or twice a week when Spock and I play chess. Janice watches her whenever I'm delayed. Commander Roose is like a grandmother to her and the girls in cartography like to kidnap her regularly whenever we come to Ten Forward. She's not lacking for women in her life, even if her mother's gone."

"I'm sorry Jim," Carol said instantly, seeing how upset he had become. "I didn't mean to criticize you – or Abby. It was just that she seemed so comfortable with Sevrin, and he's a bit loud, yet so shy when I said hi."

Jim shrugged. Abby had never displayed any sort of shyness until Carol. He didn't know the reason for it, but he wasn't about to make excuses to soothe the woman. "She's never been shy before. Normally she loves meeting new people," he told her.

"Oh," Carol responded.

They both turned to see Abby smiling and laughing at one of Carol's female colleagues, Dr. Mirjami Berglund.

There was an awkward silence as they continued to watch Sevrin and Abby move about the room, Abby smiling at everyone, male and female.

"You never did say how long you were married before…" she trailed off as Jim's head whipped around and he stared at her incredulously. "I'm sorry. I seem to be putting my foot in my mouth tonight. I didn't mean to be rude. I just…I thought about it and I was surprised that I had no idea that you were involved with someone, let alone had a child and I was just wondering…"

Jim shook his head and took a deep breath. "We weren't married. We lived together. A couple months after I…after we found out about Abby all hell broke loose with the damn biography and we decided to keep things as low key as possible. The Admiralty didn't even know until we were on Stratnon for the awards and conference. Abby was just over a year old by then."

"You were on Stratnon?" Carol asked, sounding surprised. Jim nodded. "I was too. To think we might have met up there. Which panels did you attend?"

"I spoke on a couple regarding tactics and command," he told her, his eyes still following Abby. "And I went to two of the ones where Marissa spoke. We spent the rest of our time there doing…family things – shopping, relaxing, visiting with her family."

Carol's eyebrows rose. "She spoke more than once? That's impressive," she said, though her attention was no longer on Jim. "Who is that poor woman Sevrin's ogling?" she asked, frowning. It was fairly obvious that Carol and Sevrin were not going to get along well, at least to Jim's eye.

"That's Ensign Meredith, our xenohistorian," he nodded towards the tall blonde who was now playing some sort of hand game with Abby as Sevrin stared at her breasts.

"Interesting," Carol said thoughtfully, her eyes slightly unfocused as she looked past Jim. "Wasn't there some big to do about a history database or something on Stratnon? Something that Starfleet was thinking about adopting. Is that why she," she nodded towards Ensign Meredith, "is here now? It totally overshadowed the subatomic matter modifier that we brought to the conference, even if it was just a historical thing."

Jim nodded, pursing his lips. He knew a lot of scientists were disdainful of xenohistorians' work as it compared to their own. After all, while both disciplines, and their many subsets, were respected branches of study, they tended to be non-inclusive. Pure scientists didn't see the need to study a planet's history, when their current technology was what they were interested in. And historians felt that Starfleet focused too much on the sciences to begin with and needed to take a holistic approach to contact and engagement with societies currently in the Federation or wishing to join.

"I really don't get it," Carol said after a pause. "We're a scientific organization. History has its place, but on a Starship? I just don't see the need."

"It's not just about the history, but the culture of a planet and its development. The _Enterprise_ has had the highest first contact success rate since we've had a xenohistorian on board," Jim pointed out, keeping his voice conversational. "We've had more contact missions where the planet has entered the initial stages of joining than any other ship in the fleet."

"I'm sure you had something to do with that," Carol said as she smiled slyly at him.

"Not as much as you'd think," Jim shrugged, trying to control his growing temper. She doesn't know, he kept repeating to himself.

"Well, there was that one historian who got blown up – that can't be good for their cause," she said with a huffing laugh.

Jim took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly, not letting himself even glance over at Carol. "If you will excuse me. I see…someone I have to speak with." As he turned around, he bumped into Chekov who had obviously overheard what Dr. Marcus had just said. "Chekov, can you keep an eye on Abby for me? I have to…" he shrugged, seeing the concern in the younger man's eyes and knowing he'd understand.

"Of course, Keptin," Chekov replied. "I wass only coming to ask when it is her bedtime and I will take her to your quarters iff you wish to stay."

"I…thank you," Jim sighed, in relief. He needed some space. And a stiff drink. "I need to talk to a few more people. Give her another ten or fifteen minutes. I'll try to meet you back there, but you know her routine. She probably won't argue nearly as much with you," he said wryly, before he nodded once at Carol, still not able to actually look at her, and slapped Chekov on the shoulder, striding purposefully across the room.

"Why do I get the feeling that I just said something wrong – again," Carol asked, turning to Chekov when Jim began to talk to a woman with orange colored skin, a particle physicist who had arrived with Servin.

"Dr. Marcus," Chekov began hesitantly. "I sink you do not realize who is Abby's mama."

"Jim didn't say much," Carol admitted, looking at Chekov expectantly.

"She…was…the xenohistorian before Ensign Meredith," he told her.

"Oh gods," Carol whispered, her hand coming up over her mouth. "And I just…I didn't mean to…"

"Da," Chekov nodded.

"How did she die?" she finally asked.

Chekov blushed and looked away. "She was killed in a terrorist attack on M'Qtobau. A bombing."

Carol looked absolutely horrified as she stared at Chekov in disbelief. "I didn't know it was…Oh my god. I have to…I have to apologize. I didn't mean…"

"I understand, Dr. Marcus, it was mistake," Chekov said as he laid a restraining hand on her arm when she went to go to Jim. "De Keptin, he understands you meant no harm, I tink. He is just…De Keptin is haffing a hard time dealing wit Lieutenant O'Donnell being gone."

Carol's eyes widened as she suddenly paled, finally connecting all the dots. "Marissa O'Donnell." Chekov nodded. "She created that database. The one on Stratnon that everyone was talking about."

"Da," Chekov agreed. "She won ze Cochrane award. De Keptin – and all of us – are wery proud. She was an important member of de ship…and a goot friend. De Keptin has not been the same," he shook his head sadly, looking over at Jim who was now talking intently with the same woman as earlier.

"I really need a drink," Carol moaned. Then she looked over at the bar where Jim was and shook her head. "I better wait."

"Da," Chekov agreed. "Dat is goot idea. I must return to Abby."

He turned to walk away, but Carol stopped him. "Thank you for telling me," she said. "I didn't mean to…to hurt him."

There was nothing Chekov could say to that, so he nodded briefly and offered her a small, painful smile before turning away.

xXx

After leaving Carol's disturbing company, Jim walked over to the bar and nodded to O'Reilly.

"Whiskey, captain?" he asked jovially.

"Yes, please," Jim said, leaning against the bar, his back to the room while taking several calming breaths. She doesn't know, he repeated to himself. She didn't mean anything by it. Everyone has an opinion in the debate of scientific vs. historical and cultural study. She was just being honest and making small talk.

That didn't mean that what she inadvertently said while trying to engage him in conversation didn't hurt like hell, though.

"Here you go, Captain," the bartender smiled and placed his drink before him.

"Thanks." He took a sip and then turned back towards the room, purposely keeping his eyes away from Carol. He couldn't help but smile as he caught sight of Abby still in Sevrin's arms. He had taken one of the scarves that were wrapped around his biceps and tied it around her head like a bandana. She looked piratical in the way it drooped over one of her eyes.

"She is yours?" a voice asked from beside him.

Turning quickly, Jim hadn't realized there was anyone near him. He saw an unfamiliar alien female sitting at the corner of the bar where it met the wall. He didn't recognize her and her orange skin and feathery hair was not immediately known to him. He knew Sevrin had brought two others with him. One had been another male from Tiburon, so he assumed that this must be the Jacshetomite.

Not much was known about Jacshetomites other than their astonishing knowledge of the physics of subatomic particles. Their work on the origins of the universe and the formation of atomic particles in the instants following the Big Bang had become standard curriculum in centers of learning across this segment of the galaxy, yet as a race they kept to themselves except in academic circles. Jim felt a pang at the thought of Marissa and how interested she would have been to meet someone from such a shy species.

"Yes," Jim nodded. "My daughter." He moved closer to her. "I'm Jim Kirk, Captain of the _Enterprise_. Welcome aboard. I'm sorry I wasn't present when you arrived. I know Commander Spock was very much looking forward to meeting you"

"Mr. Spock has been most accommodating," she replied in her heavily accented standard. "We had a nice long talk after I was settled in my quarters."

"I'm sure you did," Jim with a small smile. Hearing that a Jacshetomite would be on their ship, albeit briefly, was the closest Jim had ever seen Spock to being excited.

The woman hesitated briefly, but then stuck out her hand. "Sonja Powlowska," she said, her expression suddenly wary, as if waiting for a punch.

"It's nice to meet you," Jim said, taking her hand his.

When their palms touched she gasped, frozen, as all her normal orange coloring drained from her face. "Grief!" she gasped, then muttered several words in her own language. She dropped his hand as if burned and covered her eyes, moaning. "Such sadness. So much pain." She looked up at Jim, her expression wrecked. "Oh Captain Kirk, you have suffered a terrible loss. You are still suffering."

By the end of her statement the color had drained from Jim's face, too. He stood frozen for moment before practically jumping away from the woman, his eyes wide and panicked. "Excuse me, please. My daughter needs to go to bed now." Pivoting he tried to leave, but the woman reached out, grabbing his arm before hissing and quickly releasing him.

"No, Captain, please," she pleaded, her expression still pale, but earnest. "You must listen to me. I can help."

Jim turned towards her, snarling as the words began to form on his lips to demand that she leave him alone. "You can't help me," he managed to say calmly enough.

"Mary…Maris…she is not dead," she whispered urgently. "She's…it is dark. She…she hides. A…cellar? A cave? She hides and she…she…fights."

Jim's eyes widened at this. "What the hell are you?" he blurted out in disbelief. Shaking his head, Jim recovered himself somewhat. "I'm sorry." Looking around he noticed an empty table in a quieter corner of the lounge. Making sure not to touch her again, Jim waved her toward the seat.

"Who have you been talking to?" he asked harshly as they sat down across from each other. "What have they been saying about me?"

"I have spoken to no one," Sonja protested. "I know nothing more than that you are the captain of this ship and a father."

"Then where did that," he waved his hand to encompass everything that happened at the bar, "come from?"

"I can read feelings and emotions," she told him quietly. "When I touched your hand… I could feel it. Your grief. You have lost someone dear to you."

"Have you been talking to my crew? Or someone at the Admiralty?" Jim asked again.

"No Captain," she shook her head. "We only came aboard today. You have lost someone, yes? Someone dear. Someone named…Narissa…Mary…Maris…" she shook her head in frustration. "Names are so difficult. But she is not dead. She is alive. She is hiding; not safe, but alive. I can feel her, Captain," she told him earnestly. "You must tell me what happened so I can help you."

Jim just stared, his heart pounding as he tried to absorb her words. He was good at reading people, even species he wasn't familiar with, and he was pretty sure that she believed what she was saying, but still, it was too much to take in. To believe her; to let himself hope, even just a little bit, could crush him. It was only recently that he'd begun feeling that he might be able to carry on with his life and actually start to heal; or maybe scab over at least. The wound of losing Marissa would always be with him, he knew, but he was beginning to do more than just cope with life.

"Who are you?" he whispered. "What are you?"

"I am Sonja Powlowska," she told him again. "From Jacshetome. I am a particle physicist, here to join the scientists journeying to Regula I."

"Yes, I know that," Jim said impatiently. "I know where you're going. But how did you… How the hell can you know that about me?"

"Captain, those from Jacshetome are more than scientists," she began to explain. "We are able to know so much because we are attuned to the harmonics of the universe. We see, we know, we perceive minute details. Emotions create unique harmonics within the substance of space. I know this may seem foolish to you and many scientific minds have discounted our methods – even those of my own planet who are not as sensitive – and this is one reason that we choose to remain isolated. We _feel_ the universe, Captain. I can feel your grief and I can feel that the woman you love is alive – waiting for you."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "My partner, Marissa, Abby's mother, was killed in an explosion on the planet M'Qtobau, in the Donatrium region, over three months ago. We were not able to recover…anything…but all evidence made us believe that to be true."

Sonja nodded thoughtfully, her eyes focused on Jim's. "I do not know what you found, but I do know…I believe…that the woman who loves you is alive. I do not know this planet, M'Qtobau, but…I sense darkness around her. The absence of natural light. An underground location? A cave? She is safe, but also in danger." She sighed in frustration. "I do not know how to explain. Physically she is safe, but…there is a threat to her." She shrugged. "When I touched your hand I could feel your strong grief, but I also felt the connection she has to you – which I could not have done if she were dead."

Jim stared at her for much longer than courtesy would dictate before swallowing hard. "How can I believe you?" he asked, his voice thick and wavering just slightly as his mind spun with the possible implications of her words.

"I speak only of that which I perceive," she told him, holding her arms out in a universal gesture of honesty; a take me as I am gesture. "My people do not embellish or create the fanciful. I do not know you, Captain, nor anything other than you command this ship."

"If what you say is true…" Jim shook his head, as if waking from a strange dream. "I can't… If it's true… I can't let myself…" he trailed off. "Please excuse me," he said abruptly, the need to get away from this strange woman almost overwhelming him. "I have to…go."

"Captain," she called out to him.

Jim stopped, but didn't turn to face her.

"I did not mean to cause you pain," she told him. "But the one you love is out there, waiting for you. And she is not alone. She carries another."

His scalp prickled and his whole being shuddered at her words, but he didn't turn, just nodded stiffly. "Thank you," he managed to whisper.

"Good luck, Captain," her words followed him out the door and into the quiet of the hallway.

Jim walked blindly down the hall away from Ten Forward, Dr. Powlowska's words still echoing in his head; _the one that you love is out there, waiting for you. She is not alone. She carries another._

It was that last bit that really bothered him. Anyone could have found out about what happened to Marissa on M'Qtobau. It wasn't common knowledge, but even Carol had heard something. Their relationship also wasn't well known, but again, not a secret. But the fact that Marissa had been pregnant…No one except he and Bones knew that. How did a Jacshetomite find out that – unless she really could feel Marissa out there somewhere.

"Computer, location of Commander Spock," Jim demanded as he stopped at a terminal. His head was spinning, he needed another perspective. A logical one.

"Commander Spock is located in his quarters on deck…"

"Thank you," Jim replied before hurrying off.

It only took a few minutes to reach Spock's rooms, directly across from his own. He didn't even stop to think before ringing for entry, his foot tapping impatiently as his mind still tried to grasp the possibility that Marissa might be alive.

Before the door slid fully open Jim was already inside. "Spock, I need to talk to you."

"I surmised that," Spock replied calmly. Somehow he managed to remain aloof and regal while standing barefoot in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

"Were you asleep?" Jim asked in surprise. "It's not even Abby's bedtime yet."

"I was not," Spock told him. "I was attempting to meditate while Lieutenant Uhura was resting."

"That's right," Jim nodded, moving over to sit on the couch. "She's been working that split shift to help upgrade the communication array. How's that going?"

"Fine, Captain." Spock looked at him speculatively. "I do not believe you came here for small talk."

"Right," Jim sighed uncomfortably as he sat forward, staring at his hands clasped loosely together. "What do you know about Jacshetomites?"

"They are pioneers at particle…." Spock began to recite.

Jim shook his head. "No, not that stuff. I know that. What do you know about…about their empathic abilities?"

Spock cocked his head, his look seeming suddenly more alert as he watched Jim. "Most Jacshetomites have empathic and psi abilities similar to Betazeds, though it is presumed that up to possibly a tenth of the population have abilities much stronger. Their abilities have been self described as being able to… feel… the universe and the beings around them."

"And how did you learn this?" Jim questioned intently.

"When I learned that we would be hosting Dr. Powlowska I accessed the database to see what Lieutenant O'Donnell and her colleagues had uploaded," he told Jim. "There is very little information, but there were some details regarding their empathic abilities."

"So Dr. Powlowska didn't say anything to you?"

"No. We discussed her recent paper on particle physics as it pertains to subspace communications," Spock replied instantly. "Has she discussed her abilities with you?"

Jim gave a huffing laugh. "More like gave me a practical demonstration," he said derisively.

"How so?" Spock questioned.

Sitting back, Jim closed his eyes for a moment and tried to calm himself. If Spock knew about the Jacshetomite empathic abilities…did that mean what she said was true? Looking over at Spock, Jim frowned. "Sit down, would you?" he demanded. "I can't stand you hovering and it's making my neck hurt looking up at you."

"Of course, Captain," Spock replied, but Jim caught the smirking – at least for Spock – raise of an eyebrow that let him know that his first officer was humoring him.

"I met her on Ten Forward," Jim explained slowly. "She was sitting at the corner of the bar, where it meets the wall. I introduced myself; welcomed her aboard and all that. She held out her hand to shake mine."

"She offered you her hand?" Spock asked, both eyebrows now raised.

"Yes," Jim nodded. "And she didn't look exactly comfortable with the idea," Jim said thoughtfully, sitting forward again. "Like she was waiting for something to happen."

"And did something?"

"Yeah, something did. She lost all color in her face – orange to white in about ten seconds and she let go of my hand like it had burned her," Jim explained. "Then she started saying things about… my pain and my grief and how…how Mary or Maris was out there; alive and waiting for me."

"Fascinating."

Jim had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "I know it's fascinating," he huffed. "What I want to know is if it's the truth."

"I do not know," Spock told him calmly.

"You don't…" Jim looked at him incredulously. "You don't know? Why the hell not?" Jim demanded.

Spock didn't look upset at Jim's frustration as he calmly explained. "I have only a short acquaintance with Dr. Powlowska and while I do not think she would lie or fabricate a story such as this, it does seem rather opportune. All evidence points to the fact that Lieutenant O'Donnell died on M'Qtobau in the explosion."

"I know that!" Jim cut in bitterly. "But we never were able to recover a body…"

"A body was unlikely, if she had been at the Ambassador's residence which was essentially ground zero," Spock interjected.

"And we were forced to leave before we could determine anything else," Jim continued, ignoring Spock's logic and glaring at him. "She could have made it to the mountains. They could have…"

"It is unlikely that after traveling for over half a planetary day by land vehicle they would leave the Ambassador's residence for a hike six hours after arriving and in the middle of the night," Spock pointed out.

"I know," Jim said, sagging onto the couch. "It's just…"

"You wish to believe," Spock finished for him.

"Yeah," Jim nodded. "I mean, the planet is under some kind of communications black out. We know UNISTAR is up to something and now this Jacshetomite tells me she's alive and…and waiting for me. She, Dr. Powlowska, said Marissa was hiding in a dark place, like a cave or a cellar. There are caves all over the M'Qtobau mountains – our sensors could barely pick them up, the rock was so thick and mineral rich, but they were there. What if she is hiding in one of them? And Powlowska said she was fighting; that she was safe, but not safe. What if she's involved in whatever's going on on M'Qtobau now?"

"We do not know if anything is happening on M'Qtobau," Spock pointed out.

"I know!" Jim bit out. "I'm just saying… what if?"

Spock nodded thoughtfully. "Tomorrow, after we drop off Dr. Gregor and his team we are set to rendezvous with Ambassador Selek. Perhaps he will know more about M'Qtobau. And he may be able to offer us more information regarding Jacshetomite empathic abilities." He paused and watched Jim for a long moment.

"I do not believe that you should take Dr. Powlowska's words at face value, Jim," he finally said. "We do not know her and there is a small percentage of the Jacshetomite population who use their purported abilities as…a means to an end. Like vaudeville entertainers on Earth in centuries past. I do not know what she might have to gain from speaking to you, but as I stated when you first explained what she said, her words are too opportune to be trusted."

"Yeah, I know. I…"

"Add in the fact that she travels with Dr. Sevrin," Spock continued, "who is a well known showman, as well as a scientist, and it casts further doubt on her. Will you let me investigate her before you…"

"Keptin Kirk report to Medical immediately," Chekov's voice broke into their conversation, his voice slightly higher than usual, but it was the sound of Abby crying that caused Jim's adrenaline to spike. "Abby's been hurt."

Jim was off the couch and halfway to the door before Chekov finished speaking. "On my way!"

In less than two minutes Jim arrived at Medical, his heart beating wildly as he looked for his daughter. "Where is she?" he demanded of an orderly who was pushing a cart of linens. He could hear her whimpering. The young man pointed immediately to a curtained off alcove at the end of the bay.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded as he swept the curtain aside and stepped in, only to see Abby with a goose egg on her forehead and a trickle of blood dripping down her face, sitting on Chekov's lap as one of the nurses tried to wipe up the cut.

"Dada!" she cried as soon as she saw him, her tears beginning again as she reached for him. Taking her from Chekov with a quick nod, Jim hugged her close, relieved to feel her warm and safe in his arms, her little hands gripping him tightly.

"Hey, baby girl, what happened, huh?" he asked gently, pulling back so that he could look at her forehead. She continued to cry, though he thought they were more relieved tears rather than pain. "Where's Bones?" he demanded of the nurse.

"He's off shift…" she began, her eyes wide.

"Comm. him now," he ordered his voice remaining calm, but his eyes were hard as he glared at the nurse. He did not have time to waste dealing with her nerves and he wanted Bones, not her.

"How you doing, baby girl?" he asked gently, sweeping back her hair.

"Hurts," she whimpered, her hand coming up to touch the bump, but Jim intercepted it.

"Don't touch, love," he told her softly. "I imagine it does hurt. You got a pretty good goose egg," he smiled at her, wiping away a few stray tears.

"No gooses," Abby told him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. She wasn't really crying now, just hiccoughing occasionally as she breathed.

"No gooses," Jim agreed. "Just a bump. Uncle Bones will fix it."

"'Kay," she whispered against his neck.

"Chekov, what the hell happened?" Jim turned to the young man who had jumped off the bed and was now standing shame-faced in front of him.

"I am sorry, Keptin," he said, not meeting Jim's eyes. "She was playing with Dr. Sevrin. He was juggling. And then he tossed her a ball and dey played catch. She missed and de ball went under a table. When Abby crawled out she had lost her…the scarf that Dr. Sevrin had tied around her head. She went to grab it, but Dr. Marcus got it first. Dey…dey fought over it," Chekov shrugged. "Tugging. Dr. Marcus wanted to help her put it back on, but Abby…she does not like Dr. Marcus," he said with another shrug.

"I noticed," Jim said, rolling his eyes. Of course, Carol was involved. "Don't tell me Dr. Marcus hit her on the forehead."

"No, of course not!" Chekov replied in surprise.

"I was joking, Chekov," Jim reassured him. "What happened?"

"De scarf, it slip from Abby's fingers and she fell on her bottom, but she knocked into de leg of a table and a…a mug fell on her…"

"Damn," he muttered. It was one thing to knock into something, but for it to fall on her head – that could be bad. "Abby, look at Dada, will you?" he asked urgently. "Can you look at me? How many fingers do you see?"

"Oh good," McCoy drawled as he strode into their alcove. "Now you're playin' doctor."

"Damn it Bones, Abby's hurt," Jim glared at his friend. "Where were you?"

"I'm right here," McCoy replied calmly. "Now why don't you just sit down so I can take a look at our little miss."

Without an argument, Jim hopped up onto the biobed, turning Abby in his lap so she faced McCoy. She whimpered pitifully, causing Chekov to pale even further, though Jim almost sighed in relief. That wasn't a real whimper; it was her woe-is-me-I-need-attention whimper.

"Abby, darlin', look at me," McCoy squatted down slightly to get to her eye level. "Can you look at Uncle Bones, darlin'?"

Slowly she turned her head, her lower lip trembling slightly as she tried to decide whether this warranted more tears.

"Can you follow my finger?" McCoy asked as he moved his finger in front of her face. "Very nice," he praised her. "Now I'm going to shine a light in your eyes. It's bright, but it won't hurt, okay?"

Abby nodded as he quickly checked for pupil response.

"Okay, now I just need to feel this goose egg of yours, darlin'," he continued talking in a low soothing voice. His fingers coming up to gently probe the swollen area above her right eye. "You tell me if anything hurts."

"Dere's no eggs, Unca Bwones, 'n no gooses" she told him, before pulling away with a small whimper as he hit a tender spot.

"You're right," McCoy smiled at her, patting her leg. "Sorry about that. There are no eggs here and definitely no gooses. That's just what we doctors call a bump on the head. We're silly that way," he said with a goofy look that caused Abby to giggle.

"Silly Unca Bwones," she admonished him, before looking warily at the tricorder he picked up from the bed.

"Now this won't hurt a bit. I'm just going to scan this little bump."

Jim had been patient long enough. "Damn it Bones. What is it? Is she okay?"

"She's fine, Jim," McCoy replied, still talking in the same soothing voice, which totally threw Jim off. McCoy never talked this nicely when Jim was injured. Who knew the man had such a calm, comforting bedside manner? "No intracranial damage, no concussion, no vascular damage. Looks like it was a glancing blow. Just a little knot on her head. We'll put a compress on it and it will be gone by morning."

"Good," Jim said in relief. "I'm ready for this night to be over. What do you say, Abby? Want to sleep in dada's bed tonight?"

"O-tay!" she replied, her smile suddenly bright.

"Just for tonight," Jim told her with a small smile. "And you have to keep your diaper on, okay?"

"O-tay!" she nodded enthusiastically, then flinched at the movement.

"Let me get the compress on, you silly little girl, and then your head will feel better," McCoy said in exasperation, reaching out to apply a square patch over the bump.

"Silly Unca Bwones," Abby countered.

"Eh, maybe," McCoy agreed, "but not as silly as your daddy."

"Nope!" Abby agreed happily.

"Thanks Bones," Jim said drily.

Head bandaged, Abby smiled up at Jim. "Ice cweam?" she asked hopefully.

"I don't think so, baby girl," Jim laughed lightly. "You already had raspberry ice and dada's tired. Now say good night to Uncle Bones and Pasha."

"Ni-ni! Unc Bwones. Ni-ni, Pasha," Abby said, blowing them each a kiss.

"Good night, darlin'," McCoy smiled.

"Good night, kotik," Chekov replied. "I'm sorry, Keptin," he added softly, not meeting Jim's eyes.

"Ah, it wasn't your fault, Chekov," Jim answered instantly, slapping him on the back. "Things happen. She's fine."

"I know, but…"

"Stop," Jim admonished him, sweeping aside the privacy curtain. "She's fine. And don't start thinking this gets you out of babysitting duty. I don't know what we'd do without you."

Chekov smiled finally. "Of course, Keptin."

They both stopped when they realized that Spock, Uhura, Sulu, Rand, Chapel, Hannity and Maria Roose were standing just inside the entryway to Medical.

"Uh…" Jim stopped, nonplussed. "Just a bump," he told them. "Everything's okay."

Of course it was another fifteen minutes before they escaped to their quarters. All the women had to hug and kiss Abby. Abby regaled them all with her rendition of the funny man and her 'sharf' and the 'mean lady' who tried to take it from her. There were no more tears and Abby enjoyed being the center of attention, but when she started yawning repeatedly, Jim took her from Maria and had her say her good nights.

As he walked back to his rooms with Spock and Uhura, Jim couldn't help thinking how lucky he and Abby were. Marissa wasn't here, but they had family. And maybe, if Dr. Powlowska was right…

He tried not to get his hopes up, but if his dreams were filled with images of Marissa, her belly slightly distended as she caressed their unborn child, no one would blame him.

_Please review_

_And I have to give thanks – again, as always – to Royalpinkdogs. This is another chapter that wouldn't exist without her. Sonja is all hers… _


	24. Chapter 24

**Complications **

**Chapter 24**

**Stardate 2260.90**

Jim sat in his command chair on the bridge and stared at the viewscreen, enjoying watching the stars streak past, the _Enterprise_ speeding away from Regula I. He felt lighter than he had in months. After so many storms that seemed to be blowing through his life, things finally seemed to be calming down. Now maybe he'd be able to actually act, rather than constantly react.

They'd finally dropped off Dr. Marcus and the other scientists so they could proceed to the rendezvous with Ambassador Selek after two weeks of waiting. He might finally have some answers that could explain Marissa's death and prove who was responsible. Selek hadn't wanted to say anything over subspace, but Jim thought, and Spock agreed, that the fact that he was willing to leave New Vulcan to talk to Jim in person was a very good sign.

All the other things that had been eating at him; the custody case, the IA investigation, Ensign Meredith's presence on the ship, and Carol Marcus – were resolved, or in the process of being resolved.

He hadn't heard a peep from his lawyer, Hadden Fischer, regarding any sort of a second attempt at taking custody of Abby away from him, and as far as he was concerned, no news was good news. As a bonus, his will was set up and while he had granted generous visitations rights to Matthew O'Donnell in the event of his death, the man would never have custody of Abby, short of a complete catastrophe.

Just that morning he'd had a talk with Greene, the IA auditor, and he'd been grumpier than ever, even going so far as to say that the _Enterprise_ was as well run as any ship he'd ever seen. It wasn't "oops, we made a mistake, you're off the hook, Captain," but given what Veronique had learned from Greene's assistant and the fact that Jim was confident that he'd done nothing wrong, Jim took it as a sign that he'd soon be hearing that the IA investigation would be ending in his favor.

His talk with Ensign Meredith a few days ago had been a relief. He was happy to find out that even though she had been sent to the _Enterprise_ as bait, she was clearly not a threat to him. He only hoped that he'd be able to get her partner reassigned to the _Enterprise_ as soon as possible. It would be good for Veronique, as well as for him and Abby, if everything worked out.

Now that the scientists were gone he no longer had to deal with Carol and her offer of friendship. He'd enjoyed talking with her the other evening after their aborted dinner, but despite her declaration that she only wanted to be his friend Jim still found himself wary of her. She'd been perfectly polite at the dinner Rand had scheduled with McCoy, Uhura and Spock, but he'd still sensed a predatory gleam in her eyes when she looked at him. Even McCoy had made a comment while they were pouring drinks. So Jim had given Carol a wide berth. Her little altercation with Abby at the farewell party hadn't endeared her any further, but he knew it had truly been an accident. Her good-bye had been accompanied by another apology, but Jim had sincerely wished her well. Now that they were finally gone he could focus on UNISTAR and whatever Selek had to say.

And though he had chosen to let Spock research Jacshetomite PSI abilities before he got his hopes up, no one could blame him if his dreams were filled with images of Marissa. That niggling possibility of hope was the one thing that was bothering Jim at the moment. He couldn't fully let it go, yet he couldn't quite believe it either, no matter how badly he wanted to. He'd just have to wait and see what Spock could find out, and until then continue on as usual. After all, even Spock couldn't give him odds that Marissa was actually alive.

"Captain," Uhura's voice broke into his thoughts. "You have an incoming message."

The tone of her voice immediately got his attention. She sounded curious and surprised.

"Who is it, Lieutenant?" he asked, swinging his chair to face her.

"The Queen Anidal'ai of Cloral," she replied, her expression still baffled.

Jim couldn't agree more. Why the hell was that old bat contacting him now? She hadn't liked him and he really didn't like her. As far as he knew she and her planet were now in the hands of Ambassador Halliday and her team of diplomats.

"Would you like it on screen or…in your ready room, sir?" By the look in her eye she was definitely recommending his ready room, and he agreed. There was no telling what the pompous monarch would say in front of his crew.

"My ready room," Jim replied, already standing up. "Definitely."

He crossed the bridge and exited without looking at anyone, even though it felt like all eyes were on him. Sitting at his desk he turned to his communication unit and took a moment to breathe before pressing the button that brought his screen to life.

"Your Majesty," Jim nodded deferentially. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked with a forced smile. He looked at the screen calmly as the Queen glared imperiously at him, ignoring his greeting. He wasn't about to play whatever game she was playing so he waited.

"Captain," she finally spoke, her lips pursed in a moue of displeasure. "We are most displeased with you. We were preparing a message to send, but when We learned that your ship was only a few systems away We deemed this important enough to contact you personally. You will come to Us immediately."

"Excuse me?" Jim asked incredulously. First of all, where did she get off thinking she could order him to do anything and secondly – they were close? They weren't quite in the beta sector, but they weren't far away either.

"You will bring your ship to Cloral," the Queen told him.

"I will?" Jim said slowly, sitting back in his and crossing his arms, doing his best not to let his growing anger show.

"You will. We are not happy with your treatment of Our Dear Marissa," the Queen told him, "and We will speak to you about this. You have abandoned her to the wolves when you should be the one protecting her."

Some of Jim's anger faded, and the familiar feeling of guilt came over him. He knew the Queen had been fond of Marissa, but he wasn't about to let her drag him and his ship to Cloral just so she could reprimand him. He knew Marissa's death was his fault and that he was the one responsible, no matter what anyone else tried to tell him, but it was no longer a feeling he had to face multiple times a day. He knew Marissa would not have blamed him, and while it was a cold comfort, it got him through most days.

"Her child cannot be two terran years old yet," the queen continued, "and yet you leave her mother on a planet in the midst of a civil war. You, with your reputation and the power of your ship behind you, are hiding and letting Our Dear Marissa do the work of what should be a military mind."

"She was ordered to…" Jim began to half-heartedly defend himself, but then the Queen's words finally penetrated and he stopped in confusion.

"She was ordered, you say," the queen continued on her tirade, looking down her nose at him imperiously. "Are you not her captain as well as her lover? She is an insightful and intelligent diplomat, but she is not a military leader. As things have degraded into armed warfare she should have your support, yet you wander the stars visiting planets and transporting officials, leaving her to her own devices in the face of war."

Jim started shaking his head. "Wait, stop," he told her, holding up one hand. "I can understand that you're upset, Your Majesty. We all are, believe me, but I think you are confused. I wish I had never allowed her to follow the order that sent her to M'Qtobau, but it's too late now. I'm not going to bring my ship all the way to Cloral just so you can…"

"What do you mean it is too late?" the Queen interrupted him angrily. "She is in need of you now. She has powerful enemies."

"Marissa is dead, Your Majesty," Jim bit out, the words tasting like ashes. "It's too late. We've been ordered away from M'Qtobau; no Starfleet ship is allowed in the system. It's too late."

The Queen stared at him for a long minute, reminding him of the time he had faced her across her throne room as she had invaded his mind. "How did this happen?" she finally asked, not sounding at all upset that her 'Dear Marissa' was dead, only curious.

"There was a bombing of one of their cities almost four months ago," Jim explained, running a hand through his hair and not quite meeting the Queen's eyes on the screen. "She and our away team along with over 80% of the city were killed…destroyed. She's gone."

"And you have been ordered away?"

"Yes," Jim answered with a heavy sigh. "M'Qtobau is under a black out and at their request Starfleet is staying out of their system in order to let them sort out their own problems. I had no idea there was fighting, but it doesn't surprise me."

"Interesting," the Queen said thoughtfully. "Be that as it may, Captain, you will come to Cloral. We wish to see Our Dear Marissa's child."

Jim's anger was starting to come back. "Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but just because you wish to see our daughter does not mean that I'm going to take my ship halfway across this sector at your command."

The Queen waved a hand dismissively. "You will come," she told him. "As We have already said, Our Dear Marissa has very powerful enemies and you are blinded." She leaned forward in her seat. "She is not dead, Captain. Her enemies wish you to believe this; they believed it themselves, for awhile, but she is alive."

Jim's eyes narrowed. "And you know this how?" His heart beating heavily in his chest. This made twice in less than twenty-four hours that he'd been told that Marissa was still alive. Could he really hope…?

"You know of a corporation called UNISTAR?" the Queen asked him.

"We've had dealings with them in the past," Jim told her slowly, trying not to let his sudden interest show.

"They have approached us in order to negotiate a contract for a portion of our tovarpless harvest," she stated.

"I hope you would not…deceive the Federation before you are even fully a member, Your Majesty," Jim stated flatly. "I believe part of the contract Marissa helped draw up included giving the Federation first access to your tovarpless surplus for at least three standard years in exchange for medical aid."

"This is true," the Queen agreed. "And We have. The in vitro fertilization method that was shared with Us by your doctors has tripled our birth rate in the last two years."

"I am very happy for you and Cloral, Your Majesty," Jim managed to say politely, "but what about UNISTAR?"

"We were warned by Our Dear Marissa of what they could do to a planet once they showed interest," the Queen explained. "She gave us her database, though she urged us to keep the knowledge that she gave it to us secret. When UNISTAR came calling We allowed them to state their wishes, but We turned them away. They were most persistent."

"They usually are when they want something," Jim agreed. "What does this have to do with Marissa?"

"Everything, Captain," the Queen told him. "They do not like Marissa. In fact, she is on a list of people that they believe should be eliminated."

Feeling like he'd been punched in the gut, Jim sat back in his chair and stared at the Queen. "But she is…she was…just a historian."

"She and her database are a danger and a hindrance to companies like UNISTAR," the Queen told him. "You will come to Cloral, and bring your daughter. We will explain to you what We have learned."

Jim was still shaking his head. It was hard for him to wrap his mind around the idea that Marissa - sweet, caring, curious to a fault Marissa, had possibly been on some big corporation's hit list. He didn't mean to denigrate her position when he said she was 'just' a historian, but she was the least dangerous person he knew. She was interested in learning as much as she could about new and emerging planets and she wanted to protect them and their cultures from being overrun or subsumed. How could she have ended up on a kill list?

Unless…

Unless she really had written and secretly distributed this database that everyone but he seemed to know about. And if UNISTAR knew she was the creator, then of course they would want her out of the picture. They had tried to recruit her, and when that failed…had they lured her to M'Qtobau in order to kill her in the bombing? If she'd been a target, then they'd definitely succeeded, but if the Queen knew something…if she had evidence, then Jim wanted it.

"Can you send it to me?" Jim asked.

"We do not think so," the Queen shook her head. "It is much better if presented in person. There is much to explain and to show. We cannot compress it into a data packet."

Jim wanted to argue, but he knew it was probably useless. She'd obviously decided that she wanted him – and Abby – on Cloral and she would have her way. She was the Queen after all.

"We are currently waiting to rendezvous with a passenger," he told her. "When he arrives we will set course to Cloral. I imagine we can be there in," he did some quick calculations in his head, "no more than forty standard hours. Will that suffice, Your Majesty?" he asked, trying to hold back his sarcasm.

"Of course," she replied regally. "We have not had the best relations, Captain, and I realize that is Our fault," she admitted, "but We believe we both want what is best for Our Dear Marissa."

It was probably the closest thing he would get to an apology, but Jim couldn't bring himself to do more than nod. "I shall see you shortly, Your Majesty. Kirk out."

"Spock, can you come in here please?" Jim asked, switching on his comm.

"Yes, Captain."

The door to his ready room swished open not even ten seconds later.

"Once we rendezvous with Ambassador Selek," Jim told him, "I want us to head to Cloral."

"But what about the mapping mission of Beta Niobe?" Spock queried.

Jim shook his head dismissively. "It's just busy work because Dekker's pissed at me. I think Cloral…I think we might get some interesting information on Cloral."

Spock cocked his head to the side slightly. "May I ask what the Queen had to say?"

"She…Cloral's been contacted by UNISTAR," Jim began hesitantly. "She told me that Marissa has powerful enemies because of the database she wrote and that I should be protecting her."

"Should be?" Spock asked, his eyebrow rising.

"Yes, she thinks Marissa is still alive…on M'Qtobau."

"I see. And you told her about the bombing of Malloribia?"

"Yes, but she still…" Jim shrugged. "You can't tell that woman anything. But she said that she learned that Marissa was on some sort of… of kill list. Well, they succeeded at that rather spectacularly," Jim laughed humorlessly. "But she still seems to think…" he shook his head. "Anyway, she has information regarding Marissa and UNISTAR and I want it, so we're going; even if I have to parade Abby in front of the old bat to get it. I want to know what she found out and if it's anything we can use."

"Can she not simply send it to us?" Spock asked.

"She won't," Jim said bitterly. "I asked. She said that there is too much information and it is better that she tells us in person."

Spock seemed to think about everything for a moment and then he nodded once. "I will see that Lieutenant Sulu has the course correction laid in so that once Ambassador Selek is on board we can leave immediately for Cloral. At Warp Five it should take us," he paused calculating, "thirty-six point seven hours."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock," Jim nodded in dismissal. "And if we can, you know, go any faster? I'd appreciate it," Jim said just as Spock reached the door.

"Yes, Captain," Spock replied before leaving the room.

Until Chekov's voice informed him that Ambassador Selek's ship had arrived, Jim continued to sit in his chair, his eyes unfocused staring at the wall as he tried to make sense of the hope and trepidation that was running through his body. Could she be…?

xXx

Jim stood impatiently in the shuttle bay, waiting for Selek to disembark. It had been two weeks since Spock had contacted Selek at Jim's request. The old Vulcan had been off planet on VSA business and had only returned a week later when he had immediately contacted the _Enterprise_. Though he said that he had news, he had also said that he preferred to deliver it in person, so they'd been forced to wait another week, which was just as well, since Jim had been dealing with Carol and her fellow scientists, as well as the IA auditor Commander Greene.

"Jim, it is good to see you old friend," Selek said as he walked off his ship, still managing to look refreshed and unwrinkled after what had to have been over a twenty hour journey.

"Ambassador, it is good to see you," Jim responded. "How are things on New Vulcan?"

"The planet is progressing well," Selek replied, "and we are having some most welcome rain."

"That is very nice, sir," Jim nodded, turning to walk towards the shuttle bay exit. "I imagine not many Vulcans are familiar with rain."

"No, they are not," Selek answered, "at least not as much as rainfall as we have been receiving. Vulcan did have its wet season, but this has been over ten days of precipitation."

Jim made a noncommittal humming noise.

Selek looked over at him, an almost smile on his face. "I do not believe you have asked me on board to discuss the weather."

Jim smiled wryly. "No sir. Honestly I am most anxious to hear what you have learned about… about everything."

"That is quite a broad topic," Selek said dryly. "It may take me awhile." Jim smirked in response. They continued to walk towards Jim's quarters. "Will I be able to see your daughter this evening?"

Jim nodded. "You should. It's almost her bedtime. But Bones is watching her at the moment and she can always manage to stay up a bit later than usual with him," he told the old Vulcan with a small shrug.

"I am sorry if waiting for me has kept you from her, Jim," Selek told him. "I imagine your time together is very precious."

"It is," Jim agreed, "but I had other things I was working on. She and I had the morning together before she went to daycare after lunch. Spock and I are working an odd swing-beta shift in order to oversee some new bridge officers and give them a chance to get used to things. Sulu's taking alpha shift, Chekov has beta and McKenna has gamma, and we just stop by and observe…and instruct as needed."

"Very wise," Selek nodded thoughtfully.

"Uh, thanks, I guess," Jim simply shrugged. He still felt slightly uncomfortable when dealing with the Ambassador. He always felt like the Vulcan was judging and weighing him against his other self, and he didn't like the feeling at all.

"That was not something my Jim did until our second five year mission," Selek told him. "He was a bit enamored of his own command at times," he said and this time Jim knew he was grinning, at least for a Vulcan. "He didn't like giving up his chair."

Jim shrugged, feeling slightly flushed at the back handed praise. "I can't be there all the time and I have Abby. What if something happens and I'm not there and I haven't prepared them to the best of my ability? It makes sense."

"Again, very wise," Selek nodded.

They had reached Jim's quarters. The minute the door opened they heard McCoy's amused but frustrated voice.

"Now Abby, you've played the piano enough, it's time for to put your jammies on. Your daddy will be here soon and he'll have guests. You can't be running 'round naked."

"Don' wanna," came Abby's reply, the muted sounds of her piano reaching them as they stepped into the living area.

"Abigail Rose, what did I say about obeying Uncle Bones?" Jim asked, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Who'r you?" Abby asked of Selek, ignoring her father for the new arrival.

"I am Selek," the Ambassador bowed to her, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Sell-eck," she pronounced. "O-tay." Turning back to her piano she ignored them both.

"She has certainly grown since I last saw her, Jim," Selek commented. "She looks even more like her mother."

"Yes, she does," Jim agreed softly; a feeling of melancholy washing through him.

"But she acts just like her father," McCoy interrupted. "Stubborn little minx. All right you, up you get," he said, grabbing Abby from her piano bench. "It's jammie time," he declared, tossing her over his shoulder

"Noooooo," she protested. "Dada, help!"

"You're on your own, baby girl," Jim replied with a grin, as McCoy carried her to her room. "I told you to listen to Uncle Bones."

There was some more protesting and giggling as Jim turned to Selek. "Can I get you anything to drink, Ambassador?"

"Some tea would be nice after my long journey."

"Tea it is," Jim said and then paused. "Would you prefer to postpone this until you've had some time to…"

"No, Jim," Selek shook his head. "I do not. I have much to say, some of it even important, and I do not wish to delay any further."

"If you're sure."

Jim turned to the kitchen as Abby came running out of her room, properly attired in her pajamas. Without hesitation she went directly to Selek and stood in front of him looking at him with blatant curiosity.

"Abby," Jim scolded lightly as he handed Selek his tea. "It's not polite to stare."

Abby ignored her father and continued to look over the older Vulcan carefully.

"_Tnar pak sorat y'rani. Sochya eh dif_," she finally said to the Ambassador.

Jim couldn't help smiling in pride. The pronunciation was rough, she was under two years old after all, but it was obvious that she was welcoming him in Vulcan.

Selek nodded solemnly back. "_Shaya tonat, _little one," he replied, the twinkle in his eye even more obvious as he looked down at Abby. "It is an honor to meet you again."

Abby cocked her head at this, frowning at him as she tried to remember the older Vulcan. She looked over at Jim for verification.

"That's right Abby, when you were only a baby - just one year old, Ambassador Selek visited us," Jim told her.

She shrugged. "O-tay."

The door chimed and her little face lit up. "Do'r. I gets it." She ran over and stood in front of the door, waiting for it to open before turning around to frown at her father. "Won' open," she declared, stomping one foot and frowning at him, her arms crossed.

"No it won't," Jim told her, trying not to smile at her disgruntled expression. "You're too little to open the door. It has to be done by a grown up." He picked her up and said, "open" to activate the door. Abby was about to protest when Spock and Uhura walked in."

"Ny Ny! Spo'k!" she leaned out of Jim's arms so that Uhura would take her.

Transferring her to his communications officer, Jim went back over to stand near Selek. "She's a bit…adventurous," Jim told the Vulcan, to which McCoy snorted. "A couple days ago she decided that she didn't want to wait for Rand to finish making her dinner. She wanted to play with Pasha, so she simply walked out the door. Sulu found her in Ten Forward and brought her back, but until he showed up Rand thought she was hiding somewhere in here. I changed the door controls after that."

"She is very precocious," Selek nodded. Once again he was almost smiling, "and highly intelligent."

"Too smart for her own good," McCoy grumbled, frowning slightly, before he moved towards Abby. "All right sweeting," he said, his voice now affectionate. "It's night-night time. You've been yawning so much I can see your tonsils."

"Nuh huh," she shook her head wildly, managing to hit Uhura in the face with her curly mane, but her protest was useless because she then let out a huge yawn.

"See," McCoy grinned. "Told you. So why don't you say your good nights and I'll tuck you in?"

"San'man?" she asked.

"Of course," McCoy told her.

Everyone watched as she made her rounds, hugging Uhura and her father. Patting Spock and Selek on the knee and saying good night to them in Vulcan, before walking over to McCoy and demanding, "up!"

"Bossy little thing," McCoy grinned at her before he began to chant softly.

Skeeters am a hummin'

On the honeysuckle vine

Sleep Kentucky Babe!

Sandman am a comin'…

And then the door closed, leaving the room quiet without Abby's chatter.

"I don't think it will take long," Jim stated. "She's had a busy day. Can I get you something to drink? Uhura? Spock?"

Both answered in the affirmative, so while Jim made more tea for the late arrivals and poured McCoy and himself a whiskey, Spock and Uhura chatted with the Ambassador.

True to Jim's prediction, McCoy came out of Abby's room within five minutes. "Out like a light," he told everyone with a fond smile, taking his glass from Jim as he sat in one of the armchairs perpendicular to the couch that Spock and Uhura were sitting on. Selek had taken the other chair, which left Jim pulling up a seat from the dining table. "The thing about Kirks is you just have to get them to hold still for a couple minutes and then they finally fall asleep."

"Hey!" Jim protested with a smile, not denying a thing. It was true, as far as Abby was concerned. She could be tearing through their quarters, or around Ten Forward or in the pool, no matter how tired she obviously was, but once you got her to hold still she was out for the count. He didn't think it worked exactly that way for him, but pretty damn close. He could definitely work through his exhaustion if needed, as he'd proved at the Academy and more importantly, against the _Narada_ when he'd had very little sleep over the space of seventy-two hours.

McCoy just smirked and sipped his whiskey.

"I have a great admiration for your singing abilities, doctor," Spock stated. "I had at first thought that the lullaby was a chant, but you are a gifted singer."

"You heard me?" McCoy frowned uncomfortably. "Damn Vulcan hearing."

"Bones can sing?" Jim looked between his two officers, with an eager – evil - smile. "I've never heard you sing. You always do that chanting thing. Let's hear it, Bones. Don't be shy."

McCoy scowled. "No way. I was helpin' Abby get to sleep, just like you do every night. "Nothin' special." He crossed his arms and glared at Spock and Jim in turn.

Spock simply cocked his head thoughtfully. "Your song mentioned Kentucky. I had previously surmised that you were from the region known as Georgia. Please explain this discrepancy."

Growling again, McCoy focused his ire on the Vulcan, ignoring the amused look on Uhura's face. "Yes, I'm from Georgia, but my grandmother was from Kentucky and she used to sing that one to me."

"I see," Spock nodded. "Thank you for sharing, Doctor."

"No problem," McCoy rolled his eyes. "Got any more personal questions you'd like to ask?"

"Not at this time," Spock replied calmly, settling back and looking over at Jim.

"So, I suppose it's time to...get down to business," Jim said, sitting straighter in his seat and looking over at the Ambassador who seemed amused by the conversation that had just taken place. "Ambassador?" Jim queried.

"Thank you, Jim," Selek nodded politely. "I know that you have been waiting for the information I have gathered, but I am interested in finding out what you have learned. I believe that all of you have done some investigating on your own." Everyone nodded. Selek looked at each of them before his eyes stopped on McCoy. "Perhaps you could start, doctor?"

McCoy took a sip of his whiskey and then sat forward, his elbows on his knees, his glass resting loosely in his grip. "I've been doing some readin' up on Dekker," he began. "Did you know that son-in-law of his is the son of the president of SOLALCO?"

Jim shook his head.

"Interesting," Spock commented.

"Not a legitimate son," McCoy continued, "but still part of the fold. He's got two older legitimate half brothers that're being groomed to run the company when the old man bites it – he's in his eighties now, a younger legitimate half sister and three or four other illegitimate step-siblings, all of which have some place in the company. Nyola's the only one working outside SOLALCO."

"And how did you find out this information?" Selek asked, his head cocked to the side as watched McCoy intently.

"It wasn't all me. I'm not as good as some," he slanted his gaze over at Jim, "at getting into places I'm not supposed to be, but Janine did some searching and I'd do what I could whenever we had shore leave."

"I'm not familiar with SOLALCO," Uhura chimed in. "Should I be?"

McCoy shook his head. "Probably not, unless you're into stock trading," he told her. "They're richer than Croesus; first to mine Triton, first permanent colony on Pluto, first mining operation to obtain dilithium and eisilium from comet nuclei, hell – they can buy and sell small planets. So my bet is that big daddy has put the screws on Dekker, or is leading him along somehow." He sat back and took a big swig of his drink.

"But I thought…" Uhura began hesitantly, "I thought it was UNISTAR that was…that we were focusing on."

McCoy shrugged. "Well, Jim told us about the hard time Dekker and Nyola gave Marissa during that Q&A on Stratnon. They both seemed to have an interest in discrediting her, even before she made them look like fools. I wanted to see what connections they might have. Dekker was a harder nut to crack, but I found some information about Nyola and SOLALCO while we were on Lehcorwen."

"Are you suggesting that they might have engineered everything…Marissa's assignment, the bombing…for some kind of revenge?" Uhura asked incredulously.

"Oh gods, I hope not," McCoy grumbled. "If we're servin' in a military organization that is willin' to sacrifice their people just to make a tidy retirement bundle, I'm gettin' off at the next stop." He finished his glass and stood up to pour another.

Jim shook his head. "I don't think that. I can't. Starfleet would never condone such activity," he looked around at everyone, his expression earnest. "Aren't we out here to explore and expand? You can't hope to have the best and brightest if they know they might be killed to make someone else wealthy. I can't accept that…not with Marissa as…no. That's not true."

"I don't know what they were thinking, I just know there's a connection," McCoy interjected almost apologetically. "I was lookin' for information on UNISTAR when I stumbled on the Nyola and SOLALCO connection. I don't know how it all fits together."

The silence in the room lengthened as Jim sat with his head down and shoulders slumped. Uhura looked at Spock and McCoy, but none of them were willing to say anything. Finally Jim's head came up and with a gravelly voice, his eyes hard, he looked at his friends. "She didn't die for money. That can't be why. We have to know…I have to know. I have to be able to tell Abby why her mama never came back. There has to be a reason other than that, but what?"

"Perhaps some of the information I have found might help explain what Doctor McCoy has discovered," Spock interjected. "I admit that until I heard what Doctor McCoy had to say I was at a loss to fully explain what I was seeing. UNISTAR is not a company known to deal in Aluminium-29, a main reason for M'Qtobau to be of great interest to the Federation and companies like SOLALCO and UNISTAR, yet they are somehow involved with the planet. Perhaps I can offer an explanation as to why."

"Go on," Jim nodded enthusiastically. "Let's hear it."

"I have monitored not only the environmental conditions of M'Qtobau since the destruction of Malloribia, but also the erratic and random arrivals and departures from their spacedock, inasmuch as I have been able to from a distance. The preponderance of ore shuttles and freighters indicates export of some bulky materials. We were aware, prior to the _Enterprises'_ visit to the planet, of the immense quantities of Aluminum-29 discovered there in the last five years, a necessary component of the transparent aluminum we employ in viewports.

"The markets in this quadrant have recently been flooded with large amounts of Aluminum-29 and the prices on the commodity boards have declined. Apparently the influx of a vast quantity of the raw material was not anticipated and it has precipitated a flurry of selling in other, more established mineral holdings. The businesses which have, prior to this event, maintained a constant and steady supply of Aluminum-29 to the manufacturers are suffering great losses while the new source, which is as yet unidentified, is reaping great profits."

"So," Jim began thoughtfully, "someone is dumping lots of Aluminum-29 into the galactic market – a mineral that M'Qtobau is rich in, selling it cheaply, and making a huge credit windfall?"

"That is affirmative, Captain," Spock agreed. "Somewhere in the trillions of credit range."

"And so far no one knows where the stuff is coming from?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's fairly obvious, isn't?" Jim asked, looking around at the others. "If you've seen bulk transports leaving M'Qtobau…it has to be them. The huge deposits of Aluminum-29 on M'Qtobau weren't widely known, but Starfleet knew and you can bet your ass UNISTAR knew. This really doesn't require a degree in economics to see what's going on, does it? But what's SOLALCO doing there if UNISTAR already is? According to my research UNISTAR has been sniffing around M'Qtobau for the last fifteen or twenty years; shortly after first contact with the Federation."

"That is where Dr. McCoy's research comes in," Spock interjected. "UNISTAR has never dealt with Aluminum-29. That is the one mineral that they have never dealt in, until now apparently. SOLALCO is a corporation that focuses mainly on the Sol system, hence their acronym – Sol Aluminum Company. They have the resources and ability to mine Aluminum-29, something that is not as easy to access as dilithium or even praseodymite, yet they do not have any resources or infrastructure outside the Sol System, unlike UNISTAR."

"Are you suggesting they partnered up?" McCoy interrupted. "UNISTAR provides the workers and transportation, SOLALCO provides the know-how and distribution system and…"

"Two companies make a lot of money," Jim said in awe.

"That is exactly what I am postulating," Spock agreed. "But it does not explain what happened to Lieutenant O'Donnell, nor why it was necessary for an entire city to be destroyed. And how do Admiral Dekker and Admiral Franks fit into this, if they do at all?" Everyone's eyes turned to the older Vulcan. "Ambassador?"

The older Vulcan nodded solemnly. "I am impressed with the amount of data you have accumulated," he told them. "But given that I was under no restrictions as I conducted my research, I have found a great deal more."

He looked around the room, making sure he had everyone's attention. "Admiral Dekker and Admiral Franks are both silent members of the board of directors of UNISTAR," he told them.

"What the hell?" McCoy declared.

"You're kidding?" Jim asked in disbelief.

Everyone in the room was totally stunned by the older Vulcan's revelation.

"I am not kidding, Jim," Selek replied. "Their positions within the hierarchy of Starfleet have allowed them to direct UNISTAR's acquisition of the mineral rights of several newly discovered uninhabited planets that have been rich in minerals and other desirable raw materials, as well as provided a sizeable income for themselves, in addition to their Starfleet salaries."

"Greedy bastards," McCoy mumbled under his breath.

"Indeed, doctor," Selek agreed. "And Admiral Dekker's son-in-law, Captain Nyola, is the illegitimate son of SOLALCO's president. Dekker holds a great deal of stock in that company as well. Needless to say, his financial holdings have grown exponentially in recent years."

Jim laughed humorlessly. "I can just imagine."

"I always knew there wasn't something quite right about those bastards," McCoy interjected as he finished his drink and stood up to pour another. "And Starfleet is letting them get away with this shit?"

"So it appears, doctor," Selek continued. "Admiral Dekker was cautioned by the President on the matter of using Federation information to his benefit not long before his attendance at the convention on Stratnon, but UNISTAR is a powerful company. By now it is safe to assume that they consider themselves above such personages as the President of the Federation."

"So the president knows?" Jim asked.

Selek nodded. "The entirety of the data that I have discovered is available on the Federation 'Net, although restricted from members of Starfleet. It is not easily found, but if one knows what to look for…" he shrugged. "Parenthetically, I have drafted an appeal on this matter to be presented to the Federation Council in the near future. Crews aboard starships and on starbases and other off world outposts should be allowed the same access as all others."

"But what does this have to do with Marissa?" Uhura finally spoke.

"Yes, the reason that we are here," Selek agreed. "I believe this is where 'the plot thickens,' as a famous terran writer once said. There appear to be extensive connections to the events on M'Qtobau and UNISTAR. Since first contact by a Federation contingent twenty-two point three years ago, UNISTAR has been interested in the mineral rights to the planet, even before the discovery of Aluminum-29.

"The M'Qtobau government was initially leery of instituting dealings with, as they termed it, 'intelligent aliens', and at the time the Federation was unable to expend personnel to 'court' the planet as we might now. One envoy and a few aides were allowed residence on the planet, but were restricted to M'Qtobau's level of communication which did not include sub-space transmissions at the time," he continued to explain. "However, it appears that the initial envoy was also in the employ of UNISTAR. He reported to someone at UNISTAR on a regular basis using some device unknown and apparently unrecognizable to the M'Qtobauans."

"Twenty years ago is well before Dekker's time," Jim cut in. "He would have been a captain…maybe."

"True, Jim," Selek nodded. "At this time, Admiral Dekker was a commander on board the _Aurora_. Three years later he would become its captain. He did not become involved with UNISTAR until shortly before he was promoted to be the aide of the Director of the Interstellar Outreach Group, Admiral Tusks. From there, it was only a matter of time until he took over the position. I speculate that UNISTAR had something to do with his promotion at what was a fairly young age to the Interstellar Outreach Group, but it is only speculation. I have no proof. But, once he was promoted, UNISTAR shows a steady and rapid increase in profits across all their many subsidiaries. I cannot believe that this is a coincidence."

"Probably not," Jim agreed derisively, while McCoy snorted into his drink.

"While on Stratnon," Selek continued, "I met with a native M'Qtobauan by chance. He had sought transportation to the conference so as to attend the sessions on improved communications and planetary defenses that are provided along with membership in the Federation. He explained to me that his coalition within the M'Qtobauan government wished to apply for membership, largely because of their fear of the opportunism so apparent in the current viceroy's dealings with UNISTAR, but that a growing sentiment from a large segment of the population had recently expressed reservations for 'joining the club,' so to speak. They seemed to suffer from xenophobia. I was told by this person that it was suspected that those opposed to Federation membership had UNISTAR as their backers."

"But…" Uhura spoke up again, "that doesn't make sense. UNISTAR isn't a native company, they are off worlders – wouldn't the natives be against them too?"

"One would think," Selek said, "but the situation on M'Qtobau is convoluted."

"It's politics," McCoy spoke sarcastically. "What isn't complicated about that?"

"Exactly, Doctor," Selek acknowledged. "When first contacted, the original Viceroy wanted nothing to do with the Federation or UNISTAR. He was what you would call old fashioned. He saw no need for things to change. Yet he allowed the Federation envoy to stay on planet and interact with members of his household and government. His son was not as conservative as his father. He was also not as conscientious of his people. He saw a way to make a profit and when his father became ill, he began dealing with UNISTAR. I believe it was only with the discovery of Aluminum-29 five years ago, that SOLALCO entered the picture, which, coincidentally is shortly after Admiral Dekker's daughter married Captain, then Lieutenant Commander, Nyola."

"The plot does thicken," Jim commented, leaning forward in his chair.

"Indeed. The new viceroy had his detractors who did not like him making a profit off their planet and there were those, like the M'Qtobauan Ambassador that I met, that did not want anything to do with UNISTAR and would have much rather opened negotiations with the Federation, but the Viceroy controls the military, as well as the communications system and the press. Using what powers he had, as well as with the help and direction of UNISTAR, the viceroy and his party began a slander campaign against the Federation and what it had to offer, even going so far as to stage some attacks on the viceroy himself."

"Sneaky bastard," McCoy commented. "You should never trust a politician."

"But how did he explain the UNISTAR people who were working with him to the xenophobes?" Uhura questioned.

"He did not need to, as he was the viceroy and his word was law, especially to the lower classes," Selek told her. "When communications is controlled by the government, only what they want to be known, becomes known. By now, the bigger businesses have been brought in on the scheme. They are making a profit, so they do not speak out. The lower classes, though losing jobs and suffering due to the influx of off-world miners, are kept in the dark as to what is happening and the Federation is blamed for any attacks as a way to force M'Qtobau to join. Only the middle class remained undecided."

"And so Malloribia was bombed," Jim said slowly, shaking his head. "A predominately middle class, suburban city. And Marissa, a representative of the Federation, was blamed for it."

"I am afraid so, Jim," Selek told him. "I was not able to find out if her presence was planned or if they just took advantage of it, but her arrival on planet was the perfect opportunity for the government to act; to take out a large percentage of their opposition."

"That is reprehensible," Spock finally spoke. "To not only kill thousands of your fellow citizens, but to render an entire city area uninhabitable for years, is unconscionable," he protested. "However," he looked over at McCoy, "I am aware that such occurrences are commonplace throughout the galaxy and the history of the peoples therein, doctor, before you take me to task for even mentioning it."

McCoy snorted, rolling his eyes as he finished another glass of whiskey.

No one said anything as they thought over the premeditative destruction of an entire city for the profit of the viceroy and UNISTAR.

"I think…" Jim began, looking down at his hands and then up at Selek, "I think that they planned it," he told them.

Both Selek's and Spock's eyebrows rose in tandem, waiting for him to explain.

"When Marissa first arrived Ambassador Boyarsky wasn't expecting her," Jim started. "She said he was pleasant and accommodating, but unaware of her pending arrival. Franks made it sound like she had to formally request permission to go to M'Qtobau, even though we were told it was at the Ambassador's request, so she did, in order to get the green light. But it wasn't even Boyarsky's idea – or hers, it was someone else's; someone who wanted her specifically on M'Qtobau.

"When the Queen of Cloral contacted me earlier today she said that Marissa had very powerful enemies and that I had to protect her," he told them. "She didn't know about Malloribia, but she did know about the database – the one that Veronique, Ensign Meredith, mentioned at the Granvillia meeting."

"You're shitting me," McCoy declared.

Jim shook his head. "No, I'm not. Marissa gave it to her; said not to mention where she got it from, but should UNISTAR or any other big corporation contact Cloral at least they'd be warned. The Queen referred to it as 'Marissa's database' and said that UNISTAR knew she wrote it and they wanted her dead because of it."

"But why try to recruit her on Stratnon?" Spock asked.

Jim shrugged. "I thought at first because they wanted her database, or something like it to help them subjugate other planets, but now…she starts working for them and then if she doesn't do what they want she conveniently gets killed on some backwater planet and no one's the wiser."

"I am afraid I don't understand," Selek said, looking curiously between Jim and Spock. "What is this database you are speaking of?"

"About four years ago someone wrote a database and made it available to new and emerging planets in regards to corporations like UNISTAR and SOLALCO and what they do to the planets they supposedly partner with," Jim explained. "I've never seen it, but I've heard a lot about it lately. It purportedly shows pictures and data about how these corporations basically rape the planets for their raw materials and then leave, never following through on their promises. We've seen the aftermath ourselves, it's not pretty.

"All in the name of profit," he said bitterly. "But this database gives the planets a heads up; a warning, and UNISTAR doesn't like it. They did some investigating at the Academy, bullied some professors, but no one knows who wrote it or who distributed it, but…it could have been Marissa," Jim admitted, shaking his head. "Queen Anidal'ai certainly thinks so, and if UNISTAR thinks so, well then that would be enough to want her dead."

"That would certainly give UNISTAR a reason to target Marissa specifically," Selek agreed. "I had not heard of this database, but I find myself intrigued. It is a very daring thing to create and distribute. I greatly admire its creator."

"What good is it if it got her killed?" Jim asked angrily.

"I imagine it saved many lives and protected many planets, Jim," Selek said. "Exactly as Marissa would have wanted."

Jim rubbed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. "Yeah, well… but can we prove it? Can we prove any of this?" he demanded, looking up at his friends. "Can we pin Marissa's death on Dekker? Can we prove that he's feeding UNISTAR information for his own profit? Can we take them down?"

"I do not know, Jim," Selek said. "We have facts and conjecture, but no real evidence at this time. The phrasing of Marissa's orders to go to M'Qtobau is of interest. I think they should be forwarded to Admiral Pike, as well as the information regarding UNISTAR's recruitment attempt."

"To Admiral Pike?" Jim questioned.

"Yes, he is in the process of investigating Admirals Dekker and Franks at the behest of the President," Selek explained. Jim stared at him dumbfounded. "He was not at liberty to tell you."

"Jim have you told Pike about those headhunters being on M'Qtobau?" McCoy asked. "That might be something he needs to know."

"I think so," Jim answered, still staring at Selek. "I might have. I can't remember."

"The recruiters from Stratnon were on M'Qtobau?" Selek questioned.

"Yes, she ran into them," Jim explained. "Said they were kind of surprised to see her, but that's about it."

"How do you know this?" Spock interjected. "Lieutenant Uhura and I have listened to all the communication from the away team while they were on M'Qtobau and I remember nothing in regards to this."

"She piggybacked it on the official report," Jim quietly explained. "It was sent to me privately."

"What did she say?" Uhura sat forward expectantly. "Can I hear it? And can you pull up the source of her broadcast?" she asked, looking excited.

Jim looked uncomfortably over at McCoy, who shrugged. "Might as well. You could have missed something and Pike might need it for evidence now."

Frowning, Jim stood up and went over to his comm. center. He didn't want to give up this last little bit of her that he had, but he knew it was necessary. He didn't think he had missed anything, but he'd rather not chance it. With a push of a few buttons Marissa appeared on the vid screen, her voice loud and clear with the same message Jim had played for McCoy many weeks ago; the message that had hinted that she had picked up a 'bug' before leaving the _Enterprise_.

Uhura's excitement quickly turned to sadness as the message played. It was clear that she understood the hidden meaning. When it ended, she turned to Jim, her eyes wide and wet. "Oh, Kirk. Jim…I'm so sorry. She was…she was pregnant, wasn't she?"

Jim shrugged, not able to meet anyone's eyes. He hadn't watched the vid since he had shown it to McCoy right after the bombing and it was still like a new wound. To see her playfulness and excitement and her love for him coming through on the screen, yet she was gone, had been gone for almost four months, hurt. He had to wonder if the pain would ever go away.

"Captain, pardon my confusion," Spock said, "but Lieutenant O'Donnell merely complained of having contracted a malady. There was no mention of a probable conception and if she was feeling ill from said pathogen why would she wish to embark on a hiking trip? Such exertion would not be logical if she wished to achieve a successful recovery."

"Spock, you walking, talking computer, she was pregnant!" McCoy interjected. "She was havin' all the symptoms of early pregnancy and the 'bug' she caught was that."

"Indeed," Spock replied stiffly. "Then why did she not simply say that?"

"She was talking to Jim, you green blooded idiot, and she knew he'd understand. We weren't even supposed to hear this message. It was private. Don't you have any little secrets you don't want others to know?"

"I prefer to make no response, doctor," was his quick answer.

Bones' face was split in a huge grin and even Jim was smiling slightly at the standard post and riposte of his two friends.

"I'll send it on to Pike," Jim said. "I don't think you'll find anything interesting about the broadcast source, Uhura, it did come piggybacked on the official message, so it wasn't like she was using their comms. Did anyone hear anything I might have missed?" He looked around at them.

"Sadly, no, Jim," Selek spoke in the silence. "We did not mean to invade your privacy, but I believe the fact that Marissa met with some UNISTAR employees that she was familiar with will be of interest to Admiral Pike and his investigation."

"All right then," Jim said standing up. "I think it's been a long enough night for all of us. Ambassador, you have the quarters next door," he pointed to his right. "Uhura, I'll send the transmission to you with a note for Pike, if you could forward it on in the morning?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, standing and smoothing down her skirt.

"We should be at Cloral by breakfast the day after tomorrow, so until then…keep doing what you're doing," Jim told them. "I really appreciate everything you've done. Really. It means a lot to me. Hopefully the queen will have something more we can give to Pike and…and then this will all be done and we'll have our answers."

Slowly, everyone left his quarters. Spock and Selek nodded solemnly as they passed, wishing him a good night. Uhura gave a hug and a kiss on the cheek, her eyes still wet when she looked at him. McCoy only slapped him on the shoulder, but his eyes were soft when he asked if he wanted to meet for breakfast. Jim agreed to a time and then the door closed and he was alone.

He felt like he should feel excited or at least relieved. It looked like they finally had the answer to what happened on M'Qtobau and why. Add in the fact that Dekker was under official investigation and he should be ecstatic, but he wasn't. He just felt worn out, because no matter what answers he had, no matter what happened to Dekker or UNISTAR or SOLALCO, Marissa was still gone and she wasn't coming back.

_Please review_


	25. Chapter 25

**Complications **

**Chapter 25**

**Stardate 2260.92**

Jim exited the shuttle craft and breathed in the perfumed air of Cloral. It really was a beautiful planet. Even though they were at the shuttle port there were numerous flower beds and fountains, and the warm humid air held traces of salt from the ocean not far away. It reminded him of the botanical gardens back in San Francisco, but rather than being a small area of the city, it was the city itself. There were roads and walkways, concrete and plasteel buildings, but what caught his attention were the riotous colors of the flowers and bushes and the deep greens and golds of the trees surrounding them.

"Pretty," Abby cooed, looking all around her as he walked towards the receiving building, her small hand pointing at an artfully landscaped bush shaped like some animal and covered in a rainbow of colorful flowers. "Me go," she demanded, trying to move out of his arms and be put down on the ground.

"Not right now, baby girl," Jim told her, tightening his grip. "We'll look at the flowers later. The Queen wants to meet you and she has a big garden with all kinds of flowers that you can explore."

She didn't want to be put off. "Down now," she told him, wiggling.

"Not yet. Look," he pointed to the top of a bush where a red billed, blue feathered bird rested. "Can you see the pretty bird?"

"Where?" Jim pointed again, bringing his arm up further so she could follow it. "Ohhhh, pretty birdie," Abby clapped her hands. The sound must have started the bird, for it gave off a burbling squawk and took off into the air. Abby giggled as she watched it soar away.

"Greetings Captain," Thatalia said with a welcoming smile as the _Enterprise_ delegation approached her standing at the entrance of building. "It is good to see you again."

"Thatalia," Jim smiled in return. Marissa had really liked this woman. They had kept in contact even after she had turned over Cloral to Ambassador Halliday. "I see congratulations are in order," he offered, noticing her rounded belly.

She smiled softly and her hands caressed her belly in a way that Jim recognized. He remembered seeing that contented look on Marissa while she was pregnant with Abby. "Thank you, Captain," she told him. "I have been blessed, just as Marissa was. Is this Abigail? She looks very much like her mother."

"Yes," Jim nodded, "this is Abby, our daughter. Abby, can you say hello to Thatalia? She was a good friend of mama's."

Abby took her time looking over Thatalia, noticing her slightly darker skin tone and rounder eyes, as well as her prominent brow ridge. "Hi," she finally offered with a wide smile.

"Hello, Abby," Thatalia replied with a smile, though she had glanced over at Jim briefly with a confused frown. Turning her attention to the people gathered behind Jim, she nodded. "I welcome you all to Clormondopo, the Queen is most anxious to speak with you."

"As we are anxious to speak with her," Jim agreed. "Thatalia, allow me to introduce to you Ambassador Selek. He is most interested in what the Queen has to say to us. And you might remember my first officer Commander Spock, my chief medical officer, Dr. McCoy, and of course Lieutenant Uhura."

"Welcome Ambassador, Commander Spock, Dr. McCoy," Thatalia nodded lightly. Stepping forward, she reached for Uhura's hands and pressed her check against Uhura's. "Nyota, it is good to see you again. You are well?"

"Very much so," Uhura replied with a smile. "_Nemetoawa_ on your coming blessing."

"_Ni_ _tomowa_, Nyota," she replied, again with the soft smile as she touched her belly. "Cloral has been blessed by the introduction of your Federation's in vitro fertilization methods. Many, many childlings have been born since you have visited."

"That is indeed a blessing," Uhura told her, giving her hands a final squeeze.

Thatalia looked curiously over at the other two members of the away team.

Jim stepped forward. "This is Ensign Chekov," he waved at the young man. "He's my navigator and a member of my command team on the _Enterprise_, as well as Abby's favorite babysitter. He can watch over her while we talk with the Queen."

"Dat's my Pasha," Abby announced.

"I see," Thatalia replied solemnly, though her lips twitched. "It is an honor to meet Abby's Pasha. Welcome, Ensign."

"Zank you," Chekov said, blushing bright red.

"And this is Ensign Veronique Meredith," Jim finished. "She is the current xenohistorian on the _Enterprise_."

Thatalia seemed to freeze for a moment as she looked at Jim. "Marissa has been replaced?"

"It was necessary," Jim answered honestly. "Ensign Meredith has become a respected member of our crew."

"I see," Thatalia looked over at Veronique, looking her over before nodding somewhat more coolly than she had to anyone else. "Welcome Ensign."

"_Ni_ _tomowa_," Veronique replied formally.

Thatalia stared at her for another second, before turning back to Jim. "If you will follow me, Captain, I will take you to the Queen. I have transportation waiting. Her Majesty has planned an informal meal, so that you all might be refreshed and comfortable."

"That is very considerate of Her Majesty," Jim replied, following her into the building, "but I would much rather speak with her about what she knows about UNISTAR and M'Qtobau."

"The Queen wishes it," Thatalia told him dismissively, her tone cooler than it had been when she had first greeted him.

Confused, Jim looked back at Uhura who simply shrugged. She didn't know what had changed, but Thatalia had become more removed and aloof.

She led them through the building, its interior as full of vibrant color and movement as the outside gardens. Abby's eyes remained wide and her mouth open in awe as she took in everything, including the birds perching on a tree in the central atrium. Outside, they were ushered onto a ground transport for the ride to the palace on the other side of the city.

Jim put Abby in a window seat and she spent the whole twenty minute journey exclaiming with delight at everything she saw. He couldn't help smiling at her enthusiasm, but a part of him was disturbed by the sudden change in tone from Thatalia. She and he were not friends, by any means, but the few times that he had spoken to her while she was waiting for Marissa to be available she had been friendly enough. He knew that she found Marissa's attachment to him to be amusing. Being of the upper class in Cloral, she really didn't have much use for males in general, but she had been one of the more open minded Cloralans that he had met.

The ride ended at the grand entrance to the Queen's residence, a covered portico of white stone, draped in green foliage, providing shade and coolness in the morning heat. He didn't remember seeing it before, though he knew he and Marissa and her security team had passed through these doors in order to leave for the shuttle port. Thinking back, he realized he didn't remember much of his brief visit to Cloral, aside from the Queen's receiving room. He just hoped he would not have to see that again.

"If you will follow me," Thatalia spoke once they were all off the transport. "The refreshments are in the Queen's garden."

"Refreshments aren't necessary," Jim began, feeling impatient and anxious to hear what the Queen had discovered that necessitated him coming to Cloral again. Selek had given them answers, but now they needed proof. He hoped the Queen could give it to them.

"But we greatly appreciate them," Uhura cut him off, glaring at him. "I have told Spock of the wonderful vegetarian dishes that were prepared for us when we last visited."

"Yes, Lieutenant Uhura has informed me that the cuisine on Cloral will be much to my liking," Spoke said after Uhura prodded him surreptitiously.

"We are honored to share our delicacies with you," Natalie replied. "The Queen's chef is the envy of your Ambassador Halliday. She would steal her, if she could, I believe."

Uhura and Veronique chuckled in appreciation. "I've heard that the Ambassador is also an accomplish cook, herself," Veronique commented. "She is known to throw very impressive dinner parties. Invitations are highly sought."

"I imagine," Thatalia replied coolly, once again causing Jim and Uhura to exchange curious glances.

They proceeded into the palace and down a short hall to a wide door that led out into the sunshine. They stepped out on a large, stone lined patio with steps down to a grassy area that was surrounded by trees and bushes covered in flowers and color, several gravel paths leading in different directions.

"Ohhhhh, pretty," Abby cooed, echoing Jim's thoughts exactly. Marissa had tried to describe the Queen's gardens to him, but words just weren't enough. There was color everywhere they looked; the sun was bright, but the trees were dappling the area with plenty of shade and the smell of the flowers was almost overwhelming. He could hear the tinkling of water nearby. Marissa had mentioned several fountains and a least one stream within the enclosure.

"Yes, it is," Jim agreed, walking over to stand at the top of the stairs. He knew the enclosure was maybe an acre or two, but it seemed to go on and on. He couldn't see any of the walls of the palace that he knew were surrounding them. "It's as beautiful as Marissa said," he told Thatalia reverently.

"She did enjoy her time in the gardens," Thatalia nodded. "Come," she began down the stairs. "Your refreshments are laid out by the Pool of Serenity."

"And the Queen?" Jim prompted.

Looking back over her shoulder, Thatalia gave him a scolding look. "She will join you once she is done with her meeting," she told them, before continuing down the path.

Uhura came up behind Jim and whapped him on the arm. "Shut up, Kirk," she hissed. "A little patience would be nice."

"No hittin', Ny Ny," Abby said indignantly.

Jim smirked. "Yeah, Ny Ny."

Uhura glared at Jim, but then smiled at Abby. "I know, it wasn't very nice of me," she told Abby, "but your daddy is being silly."

Abby giggled and Jim jounced her up and down in his arms. "Hey, don't laugh at your dad. That's not nice."

"Silly, dada," Abby told him, hugging tightly around the neck. "Luv yoo."

Jim smiled fondly. "Love you too, baby girl," he told her, patting her back. "Wow," he said as he stepped out into the small grove.

A large table had been set out with plates and bowls of food – sandwiches, fresh fruits and vegetables, salads and a whole tiered platter of desserts and delicacies. Smaller tables with chairs were also scattered about the clearing, which was still in the shade, all of which overlooked a lovely landscaped pond and small waterfall. There were male servants standing off to the side, ready to help at a moment's notice.

"Please, help yourself," Thatalia waved to the food. "The Queen will be with you within the hour."

Jim's head shot up at that and his mouth opened, but Uhura managed to poke him in the back before he said anything.

"Thank you, Thatalia," Uhura spoke for them. "It looks delicious and the setting is lovely. I enjoyed visiting the Pool of Serenity when I was last here."

Thatalia bowed solemnly.

"I hope you won't mind, ma'am," McCoy finally spoke, "but I need to check the food for allergens. The Captain and Abby have some peculiar allergies, and I'd rather not have this meeting end in an emergency."

"We'll be fine, Bones," Jim said softly, rolling his eyes. "I didn't have any problems last time."

"Of course, Doctor," their guide waved towards the food. "It would be most unfortunate if something were to happen to the captain or Marissa's daughter."

"Thank you," McCoy replied, already taking out his scanner and waving it over the food slowly. Everyone watched him as he moved down the table. "I'd avoid this salad, and the cookie-things on the top plate," he said pointing at them respectively, "but other than that I think you're both fine."

"Then please, eat," Thatalia waved them towards the food again. "I will go see if the Queen is ready."

Selek and Spock stepped up to grab plates as Jim and Uhura glared at each other in a silent stand off. Finally, setting Abby down, Jim took her hand and led her to the table. "Let's have a snack, shall we Abby? What would you like?"

Everyone filled their plates and found seats. Abby insisted on sitting with Selek, which amused the older Vulcan, and he enjoyed asking her what she thought of her choices. The food was good, Chekov went back twice and even McCoy went back for another of the creamy delicacies on the dessert display, but everything tasted bland to Jim. He wasn't here for food or scenery, he was here for answers.

Time passed slowly and the male servants collected plates and poured refreshments as the _Enterprise_ crew sat and enjoyed the peaceful area. They didn't speak much, knowing that the servants, though unobtrusive, were listening to every word and would probably be called on to repeat anything they heard.

Abby had managed to get a third cookie and then dragged Chekov over to the pool to look at the pretty fish. She wanted to do some exploring, but Jim wanted her close until the Queen met her, then she and Chekov could wander to her heart's content while the rest of them got down to business.

Jim was pacing as the others discussed the situation on New Vulcan. He really didn't want to be here, but he wanted answers. He wanted to have something to give to Pike that would prove that Marissa's death hadn't been an unfortunate accident, but part of a premeditated plot; and if a part of him was hoping to hear proof that Marissa was actually alive, he wasn't about to tell anyone else. In his heart of hearts that was what he wanted, but after four months he knew it was impossible.

Because of his impatience, Jim heard the Queen coming before anyone else did. Standing near the head of the path, he motioned for Abby. "Come here, baby girl," he called across to the pool.

"But dada," she began to protest, but Chekov picked her up, whispering something in her ear as he brought her to Jim.

"There's someone I want you to meet," Jim told her, taking her from Chekov and nodding briefly.

The others stood as Jim waited, watching the Queen approach with a handful of servants, one of which was carrying a padded chair.

"Your Majesty," Jim bowed his head as she approached.

"Captain Kirk," the Queen responded, holding out her hand. "We are pleased to see you. Did you enjoy the refreshments We had prepared for you?"

Taking her hand in his, Jim pressed a light kiss to her knuckles, a courtly gesture that he felt foolish doing. "The food was very good, Your Majesty," he said diplomatically.

Abby was staring wide-eyed at the Queen who was dressed in a rather splendid golden dress with jewels everywhere – in her hair, dangling from her ears, around her neck and wrists, and on her fingers. She literally sparkled when the sun hit her. She hadn't been this ostentatious when Jim had last met her and he didn't remember Marissa saying anything about the Queen liking to put on a display of her wealth, but it seemed a bit overdone to him.

"You will excuse my lateness," the Queen told him. "We were contacted by the premier of Uriahdoth, an odious little man, but We could not put him off. Had you arrived sooner, We might have been able to avoid him." She shrugged dismissively.

"I do apologize, Your Majesty," Jim told her. "We arrived as soon as we could." At least now he knew why she was glowing in jewels. He didn't know much about the Uriahdothians, but he knew that their planet was well known for the gold and platinum they mined, as well as for the many precious stones that could be found within the crust of their planet. Wearing gold and jewelry was a sign of wealth and status in their culture.

"Did you?" she looked at him speculatively. "So, this is Our Dear Marissa's daughter, Abigail," she dismissed Jim and turned to Abby in his arms. "She greatly resembles her mother."

"Yes," Jim replied. "This is Abby. Abby, can you say hello to Queen Anidal'ai?"

"H'lo," Abby spoke, reaching out a hand to touch the Queen's bracelets. "Pretty."

The Queen laughed delightedly. "Such a beautiful child. Abigail, you must come sit with me," she declared. With a snap of her fingers her chair was placed in a shady area. Abby willingly went into her outstretched arms, wanting to get a closer look at all the finery. Sitting down and settling Abby in her lap, the Queen looked up at Jim. "What is her full name?"

"Abigail Rose Kirk," Jim told her. "Rose is Marissa's middle name as well as her grandmother's first name."

"Kirk, not O'Donnell?" the Queen asked, one eyebrow lifted as she watched Jim. "Even though you were not bonded as is custom on your planet? Why not O'Donnell? Should she not carry her mother's name if she did not choose to bond with you?"

Jim felt himself begin to flush, suddenly remembering why he really did not like the Queen. And he really didn't need the reminder that Marissa had said no. "Marissa chose to give Abby my last name," he told her honestly. "I would have been fine if she had chosen O'Donnell, but it is customary on Earth that a child be given its father's surname even when the parents are not bonded."

"Hmmm," the Queen replied noncommittally. "And what does Abigail mean? I am unfamiliar with this name."

"It means father's joy," Jim told her.

"So you are aware of the precious gift Our Dear Marissa has given you?"

"Every day," Jim managed to say, keeping his temper in check. "Your Majesty, will you allow me to introduce…"

She waved a hand. "We will first converse with Dear Abigail," she told him. "Please be seated."

Jim opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it. The Queen was going to do what she wanted no matter what he said and if he were to demand anything she would probably dig her heels in even more. She had brought them here, she knew he wanted something from her and she was going to give it to him at her own leisure and no one else's.

Sighing, Jim moved to take the seat between Selek and Veronique, who both gave him sympathetic nods. There was an amused look in the Old Vulcan's eyes as he watched Abby interact with the Queen for the next twenty minutes. No one spoke as they watched the Queen question Abby, laughing and smiling at the toddler's answers.

In the end, Jim didn't have to introduce anyone to the Queen; Abby did the job for him. Slipping a shiny bangle from her wrist, the Queen gave it to Abby and then set her down on her feet in grass. She then looked over at Chekov and nodded imperiously.

"Ensign Chekov," she said and the young navigator jumped instantly to his feet. "We believe Abigail would enjoy the chance to explore the gardens. There is a lovely fountain on the other side if you take this path," she pointed to the one that started near the waterfall, "and follow it around the perimeter."

"Yes ma'am," Chekov nodded and bowed at the same time. "I mean, Your Majesty," he corrected himself, blushing profusely. "Captain?" he looked over at Jim.

"Go on Chekov," he nodded. "We'll probably be awhile, so take your time. Abby?" Jim called out to his daughter who was slipping her new bracelet on her arm and up to her shoulder. "Do you want to go exploring with Pasha?"

"Yeah!" she smiled, running over to grab Chekov's hand. "Les' go, Pasha."

"Abby," Jim stopped her. "Can you please given Queen Anidal'ai her bracelet?" he asked. The last thing he needed was for her to lose the gold and jewel encrusted item somewhere in the garden.

"Mine," Abby gripped the bracelet in her chubby hands, her face mutinous.

"It is a gift, Captain," the Queen stated.

Turning towards the Queen, Jim nodded in acknowledgement. "It is an extremely generous gift, but Abby is too young to appreciate it."

"She will grow into it in time."

"It is too expensive," Jim protested.

"It is a gift," the Queen said imperiously, her tone and her look letting Jim know that she was not going to take no for answer.

"Fine," Jim muttered. If she wanted to give a toddler an expensive bracelet, who was he to say no? He'd just have to keep it safe until Abby was older. Much older. "Abby, what do you say?"

"Tanks Qween," Abby said dutifully, clutching Chekov's hand.

"You are very welcome Abigail," the Queen told her with a smile.

"Come, Kotik," Chekov started leading Abby towards the path. "Let's go zee the pretty flowers."

"O'tay," she replied, but then paused. Letting go of Chekov's hand she ran back to Jim. "You stay here, dada?" she asked.

"I'll be right here, baby girl," Jim told her, picking her up and giving her a hug and kiss. She wrapped her little arms around his neck and squeezed. "O'tay. Bye dada. Bye Unca Bwones. Bye Spo'k n' Ny Ny. Bye 'Nique. Rom-halan Sell-eck." Jim set her back down and she went running over to Chekov. "Les go!"

"She is a delightful child," the Queen commented, watching her disappear down the path. "Very intelligent."

"Yes, she is," Jim agreed. "Your Majesty, if you could…"

"Do you honestly believe her mother is dead?" the Queen interrupted him, her eyes sharp as she watched Jim's face.

Jim closed his eyes briefly, taking a calming breath, but then looked directly at the Queen. "Yes, Your Majesty. After the explosion on M'Qtobau…I wanted to believe that she had escaped, but…" he trailed off shrugging uncomfortably.

"You wanted to believe her alive?"

"Of course!" Jim snapped back. "I didn't want her to go. I shouldn't have let her go, but she did and now she's gone and I want answers," he told the Queen vehemently. "She shouldn't have died there, she shouldn't have…"

"Jim," McCoy interrupted, sounded both scolding and saddened.

"And yet you have replaced her," the Queen said derisively, staring down her nose at Jim in a way that made him want to actually hit her for presuming to know anything about him.

"I've what?" Jim asked incredulously.

"You have replaced her," the Queen repeated.

"I have done no such thing," Jim replied heatedly.

The Queen pointedly looked over at Ensign Meredith who was sitting next to him.

"Are you... Seriously?" Jim said in exasperation. "Ensign Meredith was assigned – by Starfleet Command – to be the xenohistorian on the Enterprise," he told her, his voice barely containing his anger. "Because of all the work that Marissa did, her position has become very important in the eyes of our superiors and someone decided that we needed a new one. I didn't ask for someone to be assigned in Marissa's place. But Ensign Meredith is damn good at what she does. She was also a friend of Marissa's."

"So she has replaced Marissa on your ship," the Queen repeated. "Has she replaced her in your bed?"

Meredith gasped and Jim froze, his eyes hardening as he glared at the Queen.

"I've told you before, Your Majesty," he bit out, "that my relationship with Marissa is none of your business."

"Captain," Spock said warningly.

"But if she is dead, you have no relationship and are, in that respect, free, are you not?" the Queen baited him.

Jim continued to glare. "No one has taken Marissa's place in my life," Jim finally bit out. "Not for a day, not for a night, not for an hour."

The Queen watched him for a few more seconds and Jim tensed, waiting for an assault on his mind, but nothing happened.

"You love her," the Queen finally said, her gaze softening.

"Yes," Jim nodded. "I love…loved…her. I always will."

Glancing around at the others seated before her, the Queen finally nodded. "That is good to know," she said. Jim began to speak, but she cut him off. "Before Dear Marissa left Cloral the last time, she asked for a private audience with Us," she began, as if the confrontation with Jim hadn't occurred. "She gave Us some information – a file - and asked Us not to share from whom We received it, but that We could distribute it as We saw fit – to Our friends and allies. It was a very interesting file, filled with information regarding some rather large corporations who are known to do business across the galaxy. It was also a warning. Obscene profits could be made by dealing with these corporations, but at a great price to one's planet and people."

"We have heard of this database, Your Majesty," Spock spoke. "Would it be possible to see it?"

"Of course," the Queen glanced over her shoulder and a servant brought forth several PADDs that he handed to everyone. "We were surprised to hear that you had not seen it before."

Selek, Spock and Meredith immediately turned on their PADDs and began perusing the information.

"As I told you," Jim replied, "this information could be considered illegal and in violation of the Prime Directive. Had Marissa shared this with me and I was then approached about it, I would be honor bound to answer. She didn't want to compromise me."

"How do we even know that this was written by Marissa," McCoy asked, holding up the PADD that was given to him.

"She gave it to us," the Queen replied, not taking her eyes from Jim, "and because UNISTAR is hunting her because they believe she created it."

"This information is highly inflammatory," Selek agreed, "but well organized, documented, and quite informative. UNISTAR and other corporations might consider it slander, yet it appears that all the information is referenced and validated."

"Then how would this information be considered illegal or against your Prime Directive?" the Queen asked.

"Corporations such as UNISTAR have many connections throughout the galaxy; within governments and their militaries, as well as their businesses and corporations," Selek explained. "Some of this information appears to be taken directly from UNISTAR databases, whether from hacking or an internal spy. Corporate espionage is a punishable crime."

"Yet this database, as you call it, is meant to warn planetary governments as to the machinations of these corporations who would essentially harm a planet for profit," the Queen pointed out.

"Yes, it is what is called a 'grey area,'" Selek began to explain. "The Prime Directive states that there can be no interference with the internal development of alien civilizations specifically by members of Starfleet. It can be argued that by distributing this information the maker of this database was interfering with the natural progression of a planet's history; in effect taking away, or influencing, their choices."

"Yet, UNISTAR and the other corporations would be seriously influencing any planet that they do business with," the Queen commented. "I've seen what has happened to some of the planets they have been involved with. They brought in technology well beyond the natives' capabilities; they've destroyed areas of the planet in order to get to their minerals or raw materials; they have poisoned rivers and oceans, corrupted governments, and enslaved populations – all for profit. How does this not go against your Prime Directive?"

"They are civilians," Selek replied. "They are not held to the standards of the Prime Directive. Sadly, if a civilian, or a civilian entity, such as UNISTAR, wishes to interfere with an alien planet or civilization there is nothing the Federation can do about it under penalty of law."

"That's ridiculous," McCoy chimed in. "I thought the Prime Directive applied to everyone – Starfleet and civilian."

"It was meant to, Doctor," Selek responded, "but there have been select cases brought before the Federation courts that have weakened the Prime Directive where it references civilians."

"So of course, UNISTAR has taken advantage of it," McCoy commented bitterly.

"Indeed, doctor, that is why the creator of this database – if they are indeed a member of Starfleet – could face serious consequences within the Federation should it become known who they are." He looked pointedly at the Queen for a long moment. "Your Majesty, you have indicated that this database was created by Lieutenant O'Donnell," he said slowly. "Did she specifically state this to you, or was it an assumption on your part?"

Jim heard Uhura's indrawn breath across from him and McCoy's muttering. In his peripheral vision he could see Meredith clutching the arms of her chair with white knuckles. He could feel his heart beating heavily in his chest and he had to remind himself to breathe. If she said that Marissa had told her that she had created the database…it was something that could never be known, yet if any of them were asked…

The Queen and Selek stared at each other, while everyone else waited in tense silence.

"She never said directly," the Queen finally spoke, and Jim felt all the air whoosh out of his lungs in relief. "I only assumed so when I found out that she was on UNISTAR's elimination list because _they_ believed her to be the creator."

"Indeed," Selek nodded. "So you have been approached by UNISTAR, Your Majesty?"

"We have," she agreed. "They are interested in our tovarpless. We knew they were dangerous, but We felt it was in Our best interest to not turn them away immediately."

Jim snorted.

"And some of Our ministers were interested in the money they were offering," she admitted. "But, as We have the treaty created by Our Dear Marissa with the Federation and they have been good to us, We would not betray them."

"That's very much appreciated, Your Majesty," Jim said dryly.

The Queen ignored Jim's veiled barb. "UNISTAR is a most unscrupulous company. Once the truth of Dear Marissa's – the – database was confirmed no one in Our government wished to deal with these beings. Yet, We became worried for Our Dear Marissa. In her interview with the representative of UNISTAR Minister Belorosa became aware of the representative's knowledge of the database and its…suspected creator. We are afraid they have suspected Dear Marissa for many months now. We were concerned, as was Thatalia who worked so closely with Our Dear Marissa when she visited us."

She looked at everyone in front of her, her gaze imperious before it morphed into a slightly sheepish grin. "We…borrowed…one of the representatives's PADD and copied the information."

McCoy covered his laugh with a cough and both women grinned openly at this information.

"That is when We realized what has happened to Our Dear Marissa and how you have abandoned her," she said pointedly to Jim.

"I've done no such thing," Jim declared leaning forward in his chair, only Meredith's restraining hand keeping him seated.

"Your Majesty," Spock finally spoke, "your supposition that the Captain, or the _Enterprise_, has in some way abandoned Lieutenant O'Donnell has been shown to be false. All facts lead to the conclusion that Lieutenant O'Donnell, as well as the security team assigned to her, perished in the bombing of Malloribia on 2260.66. Had there been any reason to believe she was alive, I assure you we would have remained in orbit until she was found."

"No reason?" the Queen inquired haughtily.

"None," Spock replied. "And your continuous baiting of the Captain is uncalled for. His feelings for Lieutenant O'Donnell have never been in question by those who know him and his pain at her loss has been constant."

Jim stared opened mouthed as Spock defended him against the Queen, unsure of what to say, but humbled by the Vulcan's loyalty and friendship.

"If we may move on to the reason you have called us here, we would appreciate it," Spock continued, still looking directly at the Queen. "We are looking for evidence that Lieutenant O'Donnell's death was premeditated in some way."

The Queen nodded minutely to Spock. "You do inspire great loyalty, Captain," she said, her eyes not leaving Spock's, "but We are afraid We cannot offer you information regarding her death."

"Damn it," Jim swore, sitting back forcefully in his chair and pounding the arm in frustration, "then what the hell did you bring us here for?"

"We cannot offer you information regarding her death, Captain," the Queen repeated, "because Our Dear Marissa is not dead."

Jim froze; Sonja Powlowska's words echoing in his head: _the one that you love is out there, waiting for you. She is not alone. She carries another._

"I assume you have proof," Selek commented, the only one whose eyes weren't on Jim.

"It is included in the information we copied," the Queen told them, her eyes on Jim too. "According to their intelligence reports from the planet, she is one of the leaders of the current rebellion. They, too, thought she had perished in the bombing – that was one of the objectives – but eventually it came to their attention that she and the others with her had survived the bombing and were working with the rebel faction against the current government. Even more interesting, she is credited with helping the rebels infiltrate the communications system and broadcast propaganda through the planetary communications grid as well as making some tactical decisions in regards to spying and guerilla attacks on warehouses and supply depots."

"She's alive," Jim repeated softly. "How? What proof? Do you have pictures or…or something solid? How do you know that the information was real?"

"The information was on a highly encrypted PADD," the Queen explained. "Why would they put false information on something we had to go to great lengths to steal? And why would they suspect us?" She snapped her fingers and a servant offered Jim and Spock another PADD. "You will find on page fifty-four a communiqué dated 2260.86 that Marissa and her conspirators were cornered and asked to surrender. There is a list of 15 beings that were thought to be in the cave, she is one of them. They managed to elude capture and return to their headquarters, the location of which was unknown at the time."

"That's not proof," McCoy interjected. "That's a name on a list."

"True, I am afraid I cannot offer you pictures or other physical proof," the Queen said. "But the fact remains that Dear Marissa's name is mentioned throughout the information we gathered, and UNISTAR and their operatives believe she is alive."

"She made it," Jim said, grinning like a fool. "She made it to the mountains."

"Jim," Spock began. "We must investigate this thoroughly. There have been too many coincidences lately for us to take this at face value."

"But…" Jim began.

"You think We would lie to you?" the Queen asked incredulously.

"No, Your Majesty," Spock said, his eyes going from Jim to the Queen and then back again. "But much has happened to the captain that you do not know of. It is possible that the PADD you stole was planted at the request of someone at UNISTAR or possibly even by a person in authority elsewhere," he said meaningfully. "Your captaincy has been under almost continuous attack, Jim," Spock reminded him. "Too many things have been happening. It is not above the realm of possibility that such an individual had someone plant this information in the hopes that you would go to M'Qtobau which would be in direct violation of Starfleet's orders. If we were to not find Lieutenant O'Donnell, then you could be brought up on charges and quite possibly lose your captaincy."

"We can go to Pike," Jim argued. "He can arrange for us to go to M'Qtobau…"

"With stolen information?"

"_We_ didn't steal it," Jim countered.

"Jim, let us get back to the ship and we can…"

"There is an audio file of the surrender response," Selek interrupted.

The Queen waved her hand in dismissal. "It is a standard response and hard to understand, even with your universal translators. It is impossible to tell if it is a male or female speaking."

"Let me hear it," Uhura requested, sitting forward in her chair.

Selek fiddled with the PADD producing static. Eventually a synthesized voice began speaking in what Jim assumed was one of the languages on M'Qtobau. He watched Uhura intently; her head tilted and eyes squinting as she tried to make something out.

"Play it again," she demanded, but again, it barely sounded like words to Jim. "Ambassador, can you copy and send that to my PADD," Uhura requested.

"Of course," Selek responded.

Grabbing her communicator, Uhura glanced over at the Queen, "May I, Your Majesty?" she asked.

"Of course," she responded.

"Uhura to _Enterprise_."

"_Enterprise_ here, Lieutenant," Sulu replied almost instantly.

"I need to talk with Hannity."

There was a pause. "Hannity here."

"Hannity, I'm going to send you a file," Uhura said briskly. "I need you to clean it up. I want to be able to hear what is being said and if it's a male or female if it all possible."

"Receiving now, Lieutenant," Hannity replied. "Give me a couple minutes."

No one spoke as they waited for Hannity to send the file back. Jim paced back and forth behind Uhura's chair, occasionally glancing over at the Queen. UNISTAR thought she was alive. Sonja Powlowska thought she was alive. The Queen of Cloral thought she was alive. He really, really wanted to believe she was, but he didn't want to fall into a trap and lose everything else in this life.

When Uhura's PADD went 'ping' Jim was behind her immediately. "Play it. Play it. What does it say?"

"Calm down, Kirk," Uhura scolded. "And shut up."

She ended up playing it twice more. The static was gone, but it was still unclear who or what was speaking.

"What did they say?" Jim asked.

"Not a lot actually," Uhura said, still fiddling with her translation application on her PADD. "The usual 'we don't acknowledge your authority, blah, blah, blah, we will not surrender to you' and then…" she shook her head. "That can't be right, it makes no sense. I'm sorry, I'll have to do some more research once we get on the ship."

"Why?" Jim questioned. "What do you think it says?"

"Well," Uhura started hesitantly. "I think there are two voices. One does most of the talking and then another voice – I think – says just one word, but it doesn't make sense," she shook her head.

"What? Uhura!" Jim demanded.

"According to the translator the second voice just says 'nuts.'"

"Nuts?" Jim repeated in consternation. "In standard?"

"Well, there was no direct translation," Uhura told him, "the program defaulted to standard. It could be any language."

"Nuts?" Meredith sat forward in her chair suddenly.

"You mean like peanuts and almonds and, and walnuts?" Jim asked for clarification.

"Yes, according to the translator, that's what the voice said," Uhura confirmed in confusion.

"We told you the file was of no use, but now that…" the Queen began to speak.

"Wait a minute," Meredith interrupted her, turning in her seat to face Uhura. "There's no mistake? The voice said 'nuts?"

"No mistake that I can see," Uhura agreed. "It's weird, maybe a local colloquialism. I'll need to…"

"It is a colloquialism, but not from M'Qtobau," Meredith said, her body tense and her eyes wide as she turned to look at Jim.

"Does this mean something to you, Ensign," Jim asked, seeing the excitement in her expression and trying to tamp down on his reaction to it.

"Do you know what Terran era of history was Marissa's favorite?" she asked Jim.

"Uh," he thought about it. "The twentieth century."

"Yes," she nodded enthusiastically. "Specifically WWI and WWII. She had a great great something that fought in WWII. A relative who fought at the Battle of the Bulge."

"So?" McCoy asked, obviously picking up on her excitement but not understanding where she was going.

"The Allies were surrounded and the Germans requested that they surrender and the allied General…MacDuff or Maclaughlin or something like that… he sent back a one word reply…"

"Nuts," Jim whispered in awe, not able to look away from Meredith.

"Nuts," she agreed, nodding her head. "Marissa had a poster on her door, just the word 'nuts.' She thought it was funny. We had an interdepartmental air soft war with cartography and xenotaxonomy. She was a section leader and when she got cornered and they told her to surrender, she yelled nuts and then rushed them. She almost managed to get through, too."

Jim didn't say anything else, just looked over at Spock who stood up slowly, straightening his shirt. "Captain, I believe we should return to the _Enterprise_," he finally spoke.

"Hell yes we should," Jim agreed already heading down the path that brought them to the small clearing. He could hear Uhura and Meredith making their apologies for him and thanking the Queen for the information she had given them. He didn't care. He wanted to find Abby and he wanted to get to the _Enterprise_. Then he was going to order the ship on a direct route to M'Qtobau. Spock would probably make him contact Pike, but he didn't care what anyone said. They were going to M'Qtobau now.

"Chekov! Abby!" Jim called. He'd made it to the porch stairs, the rest of his party not far behind. Even the Queen had hustled after him.

"Captain, We are glad that Our news was what you wanted to hear," the Queen said as she came to stand beside him at the top of steps.

Jim actually smiled at her. "Very much so," he agreed. "I honestly can't thank you enough… It's…I…"

"We are sure your first officer will read through the information," the Queen continued. "He will find that UNISTAR had thought that they had achieved their objective of eliminating Our Dear Marissa. They believed this for many weeks. The fact that you also believed her to be dead is not surprising."

Jim looked at her in shock. Was she actually trying to comfort him after all she had said?

"I truly do believe that you love Marissa and would do anything for her," she told him, for once not sounding like a pompous monarch. "I hope you find her. Have a safe journey, Captain."

"Keptin?" Chekov called out, striding from one of the paths with Abby in his arms a bouquet of flowers in her hands.

Jim turned to face the young ensign, his body practically vibrating on the top step. "She's alive," he said. "We gotta go now."

"She? Who? Who iz alive?" Chekov asked in confusion, turning to look at Spock and McCoy. Jim had taken Abby from him and was hugging her tightly.

"Marissa," McCoy told him.

Chekov's eyes widened comically. "Truly?" he asked, now looking at Spock for confirmation.

"Queen Anidal'ai has provided us with information that shows that it is likely that at least Lieutenant O'Donnell survived the bombing of Malloribia," Spock informed him. "Further evidence suggests that she was indeed alive two weeks ago, if Ensign Meredith is correct in her assumption of the likelihood of the Lieutenant using the phrase 'nuts' in response to a demand for surrender."

Chekov looked over at Meredith and then Jim. "It is from ze Battle of ze Bulge in World War II, da?" he asked, his excitement obvious. "Marissa and I have discuss zis before. Her great great," he waved a hand excitedly to mean more, "grandfazer was in the battle. We haf talked about dis many times as I haf a grandfazer on my muzzers side that fought at Stalingrad." Turning to Jim who was smiling widely at him, Chekov beamed. "She iz alive!"

"It looks like it," Jim agreed, slapping Chekov on the back and almost making him lose his balance. "See Spock, that's two people who associate the phrase with Marissa. Who else would say that? Especially on M'Qtobau?"

Spock nodded. "I concur that the phrase itself is attributable to Lieutenant O'Donnell, but we have no evidence that it was actually her voice and…it was spoken two weeks ago. In a planet in obvious turmoil and with the lieutenant being a wanted target, much could have happened. I do not wish to…get your hopes up, Captain."

"Stop being such a wet blanket," McCoy scolded. "We need to get there to find out."

Spock turned to McCoy and nodded. "I agree doctor. We must return to the ship immediately and contact Admiral Pike. He will be most interested in the information we have been given and he can help us obtain clearance to return to the planet."

"I don't give a damn about clearance," Jim cut in, a frown on his face. "If there's a chance Marissa is alive, we're going and that's it."

Chekov and McCoy were nodding in agreement. Spock opened his mouth to speak again, but Uhura's put a restraining hand on his arm. "Perhaps then we should say our good byes, Captain?" she pointed out.

"Yes, of course," Jim responded, turning to the Queen and bowing slightly. "Your Majesty, I can't... I don't know…" He tried once again to thank her, but words failed him.

Queen Anidal'ai smiled benevolently. "Go Captain. Find Our Dear Marissa. We only ask that you bring her to visit Us as soon as you are able."

"Of course," Jim grinned. "Thank you, Your Majesty – for everything." Turning away, he began striding towards the entrance to the palace that would take him to their waiting transportation. "Let's go, guys. Marissa is waiting."

_Please review_

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	26. Chapter 26

"Captain, shuttles _Ramon_, _Chawla_ and _McCool_ are prepped and ready," Sulu called over his shoulder.

"Good," Jim responded, his eyes focused on the lights streaking past the viewscreen. "Time?"

"Eleven minutes, sir."

Jim only nodded in response. It had been a long twenty-eight hours in transit, but they were almost there; almost to M'Qtobau and to Marissa. His body was strung tight as a bow string. Various body parts – his leg, his eye, a foot – were twitching at random intervals. He'd tried to sleep, honestly he had, but it just hadn't worked, so he'd spent the night pacing, waiting for Pike to get back to them regarding permission to return to M'Qtobau and reading the files Queen Anidal'ai given them. If Pike only used a small portion of the information provided, Dekker and UNISTAR were in big trouble.

It wasn't like Jim had cared about getting permission. They'd barely been back to the shuttle port on Cloral when Jim had ordered Sulu to put in a course for M'Qtobau, and they'd barely touched down on the _Enterprise_ when he'd ordered maximum warp. Spock had almost frowned when he'd given the order and Selek had almost grinned, but everyone else seemed to understand and expect his command.

McCoy's "Jesus Jim, could you at least make sure that this tin can is secured before you go flinging us through space," had caused Meredith and Chekov to giggle, and even Uhura cracked a smile.

Handing Abby over to Chekov with orders to take her to the daycare, Jim and the others had hurried to his ready room. It only took Uhura ten minutes to get Pike on the comm. with a priority one call.

"What the hell do you want Kirk?" the admiral asked as soon as he was on screen. "Priority one is to be used in urgent cases, you know? Not just because you miss talking to me."

"We're going to M'Qtobau," Jim told him, not even bothering to banter with him.

"The hell you are," Pike shot back, frowning.

"Course is already laid in, we're pushing warp six, we should be there in twenty-eight hours or less, if Sulu can finagle more speed through this area," Jim told him briskly. "I need you to get us permission to enter the system."

"Hold on," Pike said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms as he glared balefully at the screen. "Did you forget the part where I'm the admiral and you're the captain?"

"No sir," Jim replied, still pacing in front of the conference desk. "I'm just telling you what I need."

Pike audibly sighed. "Kirk, sit down and tell me what the hell is going on," he demanded. "Or better yet, Spock?" he looked at the Vulcan.

"Admiral, the _Enterprise_…"

"Marissa is alive," Jim blurted out, interrupting his first officer as he sat heavily in his seat. "The Queen of Cloral had one of her ministers steal a PADD from a UNISTAR representative that was courting them for their tovarpless – yes, UNISTAR has contacted them even though they are in negotiations with the Federation. The PADD has a bunch of information, but most importantly it has information about what is currently going on on M'Qtobau. They are in the middle of a civil war and Marissa is on the top of their hit list. She's been suspected to have been involved in planning several guerrilla attacks on communication systems as well as supply depots. Two weeks ago she and a dozen other rebels were cornered and asked to surrender and they refused. She's alive and we're going to M'Qtobau whether you get us permission or not."

Pike stared at Jim in shock as he absorbed the sudden rush of information.

"Admiral," Jim prodded in frustration.

"Spock?" Pike looked away from Jim.

"The captain's information is correct," Spock replied. "According to the information Queen Anidal'ai gave us, Lieutenant O'Donnell survived the bombing of Mallorabia and has been an active member of what UNISTAR terms the rebel faction. If she was indeed in the party that was asked to surrender then as of two weeks ago she was alive on M'Qtobau."

Pike didn't say anything at first, just stared at the screen blankly, his mind obviously working through different scenarios and options.

"The president is currently on Denobia," he finally said. "It may take some time to get through to him and even then… you said the information you have was stolen by the Cloralans?"

"The term the Queen used was 'borrowed,'" Selek spoke for the first time. "The PADD was returned to the UNISTAR representative."

Pike nodded. "Then if you would please send me this _borrowed_ information, I would be interested in seeing it," he said. "I don't suppose our friend in charge is mentioned anywhere?"

"Not directly," Selek told him, "but I have not been able to look through it fully. A part of the information is encrypted, but if I am not mistaken there are account numbers and contact information included in these parts. Were you able to look over the orders that sent the _Enterprise_ to M'Qtobau, as well as the communication from Lieutenant O'Donnell to Jim?"

"I was," Pike nodded. "It was fascinating, to borrow a phrase. And Jim," he turned back to look at his protégé, "I know this has been hard on you, but to know that she was…"

Jim shook his head, interrupting the older man. "She's not dead," he declared. "So, that's in the past. Soon I'll have her back; I'll have them both back. I just need your help to make sure I don't lose the _Enterprise_ in the process."

"I don't suppose I can talk you into waiting for that permission, can I?" Pike asked wryly.

"No sir," Jim told him honestly. "We're going in with or without it."

Pike nodded, knowing that was the only answer he was going to get. "I'll see what I can do. And Jim?"

"Yes sir?"

"Congratulations and good luck. Pike out."

That had been almost twenty-eight hours ago and now they were minutes away from M'Qtobau. Permission to enter the system had come through an hour previously. Jim was officially under orders from the President of the Federation to observe the situation, offer aid as needed, and search for their missing away team.

"Uhura, anything?" Jim turned towards his communications officer.

"Nothing yet, sir," she replied, her hand pressed to her ear as she continued to switch through channels. "They appear to still be under a black out."

"Let me know the minute you pick anything up," he told her. "I don't care if it's a commercial for the latest fancy soap, I want to hear it."

"Of course, Captain." If she huffed at her communications display, no one paid her any mind.

The bridge was silent until Sulu spoke again. "Coming out of warp in five, four, three, two…" and suddenly M'Qtobau was before them. Jim's breath caught in his chest as he stared at it, believing that somewhere down there Marissa was alive and waiting for him.

The bridge didn't remain silent for long.

"Captain, I have a repeating radio message coming from eighty kilometers east northeast of Malloribia. They are asking for help," Uhura called out.

"The radiation shield is holding and radiation levels are negligible outside of the shield."

"Keptin, there are several areas of small arms fighting," Chekov said.

"According to local news agencies the viceroy has been overthrown and has left the planet, sir," Hannity spoke up, as others chimed in with information regarding the planet below from their stations.

"Then why the hell is there still fighting?" Jim demanded. He was still sitting in his chair, though he was leaning forward tensely. He had agreed with Spock that they needed to assess the situation before sending any landing crafts, but he was chafing with the need to get down there now. "Chekov, give me locations."

"Ze largest area of concentrated fire is eighty kilometers east northeast of Malloribia," Chekov told him, spinning slightly in his chair. "Ze same location of ze message." His eyes were wide and excited. That direction had been where they had concentrated on searching for the away team the first time. It had been the most likely way they would have travelled in order to avoid the bomb.

"Uhura, play the message," Jim ordered. "Is it radio or sub space?"

"Radio only," Uhura informed them. "And I'm not getting any response to my hails. I did manage to get through to someone in Prividan City, but they don't seem to know who is in charge. When I have someone…"

"Let me know," Jim cut her off impatiently. "Now play the message. Chekov, get me a scan of the area. I want to know what we're up against."

"Yes sir."

"…free people of M'Qtobau in opposition to the Viceroy and his UNISTAR partners. We are being fired upon. We are running short of supplies and ammunition. We need help. This is Ambassador Loular Boyarsky, leader of the free people of M'Qtobau in opposition to the…." It repeated.

Jim felt a grin spreading across his face as the message continued. The ambassador was alive. He'd bet the _Enterprise_ that Marissa and the away team were with him.

"Chekov – visual. Now."

"Yes, Keptin," the young ensign replied. Hitting a few more switches, the view screen changed. Instead of looking at a peaceful planet floating in space there was a grainy picture of trees and rocks, a stream and smoke. "Zhere appears to be a cave entrance zhere," Chekov pointed at the top right corner of the view screen. "It iz collapsed. I count thirty-zeven life signs in the area. All weapons are projectile, similar to late twenty-first century Earth."

"Landing area?" Jim asked, standing in order to get a better view. He could just make out small figures moving through the trees. Something had just been fired at the cave location, because that area of the screen was suddenly filled with smoke and debris. Projectile weapons were primitive, but they got the job done. They were just messier.

"Point two kilometers north of the cave by the stream bed zhere iz enough room for two shuttles, Keptin."

Jim nodded. "All right, let's…"

"Captain, I have someone from Prividan City," Uhura informed him.

Jim sighed. Glancing over he looked at Spock. He knew he had to take this. It was best that they knew as much as they could. "Fine," he replied, sitting down in his chair once more. "I want shuttles _Ramon_, _Chwala_ and _McCool_ warming up. Sulu and I will take the _Ramon_ with Bones and his team. Scotty, Jaquith and Giotto on the _Chawla_, with Tibbs flying cover on the _McCool_, and Spock coordinating everything from there. Chekov you're in charge here. Uhura keep us all informed. Sulu get everyone ready and to the shuttles, I'll be there in five minutes. Uhura, on screen please," he ordered.

"This is James T. Kirk of the _USS_ _Enterprise_," he said to the M'Qtobauan on screen.

"Captain Kirk, I am named Bjarni Olegston," the man smiled widely, his words heavily accented. He began to speak rapidly in what appeared to be a mix of standard and M'Qtobauan, but Jim barely managed to pick up two words.

"Wait, wait," he called holding up his hand. "I'm not understanding you. Please slow down and feel free to speak in your language, we'll use our Unitrans." Jim waved a hand back towards Uhura to activate the system.

The man seemed to pause as he tried to decipher Jim's words, but then nodded. "I am sorry," he spoke again, this time the Unitrans translated his words easily. "It has been a most amazing day. We have finally overthrown the Viceroy and removed him from power. We are in the process of interning all of his allies that he left behind."

"The Viceroy has left the planet?" Jim asked.

"Yes," the other man nodded. "Yesterday. He left on a UNISTAR ship."

"Who is in charge now?"

Olegston shrugged. "I do not know, Captain Kirk. I am only a banker. We are waiting for Ambassador Boyarsky and Ranoyl to return from their headquarters in the mountains. Ranoyl is the brother of the Viceroy and we hope our next leader. He helped to expose his bother's corruptions and free our people from the yoke of the alien company UNISTAR."

"And this Ranoyl is with Ambassador Boyarsky?" Jim questioned.

"Yes."

"Well, according to a distress signal we are picking up, Boyarsky and whoever is with him are under attack in the mountains and need assistance," Jim told him.

Olegston's face paled and he frowned. "We are not aware of this," he said, before turning to talk to someone off screen, his hand covering the microphone. "Our communications system was damaged and only recently brought back online," he told them. "We will see about sending relief…"

"I have three shuttles ready to launch and can be there in twenty minutes," Jim interrupted him. "We'd be more than happy to assist in aiding the Ambassador and his followers."

"I…" Olegston hesitated, once again focused on someone off screen. "We appreciate your desire to help, Captain, but we would…prefer…to not have any more alien intervention on our planet. We can…"

Jim almost rolled his eyes. "I know you can take care of your own," Jim interrupted him again. "But you have to understand that I have a team of five people on your planet. People that we thought had died in the bombing of Malloribia. I will not leave this system without them. So whether you want our assistance or not, we will be going down to get our people. We can bring you the Ambassador and Ranoyl and then leave. The Federation has no desire to force your government to do anything, but I am retrieving my people whether you want me to or not."

Again Olegston seemed to be listening to someone, and then he turned and nodded at the screen. "That is acceptable, Captain. We appreciate your help in bringing our leaders to Prividan City."

"Excellent," Jim replied. "Kirk out." Standing, Jim looked around the bridge. "Okay, folks, keep us informed. Chekov, the conn is yours. Spock, let's go!"

"Aye, Keptin," Chekov replied instantly. "Good luck!"

The shuttle _Ramon_ entered the atmosphere of M'Qtobau with little trouble. No warnings sounded, no alerts on the planet surface were detected. Olegston seemed to think that the Viceroy and his cronies had flown the coop, but obviously there was still fighting going on. They had to be careful.

At the helm Sulu gracefully guided the stubby landing craft through the clouds and down towards the mountainous region of M'Qtobau, northeast of the once lovely city of Malloribia, destroyed by a bomb four months ago. The area surrounding the city was a no-man's land due to the radiation from the bombs; however government officials had created radiation screens which prevented the spread of the radioactive ionic fallout and there was even evidence of primitive scrubbers in the airspace above the city.

On board the _Ramon_, Jim sat uneasily in his seat. Bouncing his leg and tapping on the arm of the chair, he definitely was not presenting the image of a cool, calm captain firmly in control of his feelings. Next to him McCoy was doing his best to ignore Jim's fidgeting, but could not help the occasional grimace or eye roll as Jim's twitches became more and more noticeable.

Finally, Bones reached over to grab Jim's arm. "Damn it, Jim! Be still. You're messin' with the damned shuttle's stability controls. Sulu can barely keep the thing level for all your cavortin'. She's there. She's there and you're gonna see her in just a little bit."

"God, Bones," Jim shook his head and consciously gripped his fingers together in an effort to stop moving. "She's got to be there. She has to be. If she's not…" the tortured face he turned towards his friend was at once hopeful and desperate, "I can't stand it – what's taking so long?"

"We're getting there Jim," McCoy told him with a comforting pat on his leg. "Sulu's flying this tin can as fast as he can. We don't want those troops knowing we're coming. Not if they happen to have any heavy fire power Chekov wasn't able to see."

"I know Bones, I know," Jim replied, sitting forward and rubbing his hands through his hair in agitation. "I'm the one who devised this mission. I just…" he turned to stare out the porthole, watching the ground grow closer and closer."

"Captain, we're in range of standard weapons systems," Sulu said over the speakers. "Our shields are at one hundred percent."

"Good," Jim replied through his comm. "Hannity, what are the scanners showing?" he called over to the communications station.

"They are continuing to fire upon the hillside, sir," she replied promptly. "The cave opening shows debris; access may still possible, but we'll have to do some digging."

"Sulu, how soon can we be in range for phasers?" Jim asked.

"Ninety seconds, Captain."

Jim sighed heavily. I'm coming, Marissa. Hold on for two more minutes. I'm coming, he thought urgently.

"Captain, I've picked up a recorded broadcast from near the cave," Hannity said, a huge grin on her face. "You have to hear this."

"This is Lieutenant Roth of the _USS Enterprise_. Our away team is stranded on the planet M'Qtobau, grid quadrant 71 by 54. We are without provisions and under attack. We request aid from any Starfleet ship within hearing. Stardate mark 2260.90. I repeat this is Lieutenant Roth of the _USS Enterprise_. We are in need of immediate assistance and evacuation…"

"Holy shit!" Jim declared, looking over Bones and grinning.

"They're here," McCoy smiled back, slapping Jim on the back heartily.

"Why the hell didn't we pick this up sooner?" Jim demanded, unstrapping from his harness and going over to stand next to the communications station.

"It's a very weak signal, sir," she told him. "I had to boost it through our array to even hear all of it."

"Can you get through to them?" Jim asked, watching her fiddle with the console in front of her.

"Negative, sir," she shook her head. "It's broadcast only. I don't think the receiver's working."

"Keep trying," Jim told her. "And good job," he added, patting her on the shoulder.

"Thank you, sir," she smiled up at him, her eyes shiny, before turning back to her station.

The shuttle suddenly rocked as something impacted against the shield.

"Sulu?" Jim called, working his way to the cockpit.

"Shields are holding," Sulu said over his shoulder, maneuvering the craft out of the path of another projectile. "It was a lucky hit."

"Set phasers to heavy stun, wide spread," Jim ordered, he watched as Ensign Tolkev fiddled with his controls in the co-pilots seat. "Fire!"

The shuttle wasn't as sturdy as the _Enterprise_ and the firing of the phasers in atmosphere made it vibrate as the energy beams were released, causing McCoy to curse loudly.

Tolkev looked over the scanners. "Scans show all ground personnel immobilized. No weapons are being fired, Captain."

"Okay," Jim replied, turning back to the main cabin. "Hannity, hail the _Chawla_." After a few clicks, Lieutenant Jaquith responded and Jim had her patch him through to Scotty.

"Scotty, we stunned the ground troops. They're out for the count," Jim told him. "What are you seeing on your side?"

"They fired on us, too, but our shields held without a problem," Scotty told him heartily. "Sulu hit 'em with a heavy stun I see, so they should be out for a wee bit longer than usual," he chuckled. "No further movement in this region."

"Good Scotty," Jim replied. "Set her down and start working on the cave entrance, got it?"

"Right away, Capt'n."

"Get me the _McCool_," Jim ordered Hannity again.

"Spock?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"How are things looking from up there?"

"There are no conscious life signs within ten kilometers of your landing sight," Spock informed him. "Our scanners are mostly blocked by the cave walls, but we are able to detect life signs within the cave. The cave system seems to be very large consisting of several large caverns and many branching tunnels and pathways. I would guess over two kilometers in total. And the source of the broadcast that Lieutenant Hannity picked up is near the original M'Qtobauan broadcast sight."

"Excellent," Jim grinned. "Keep an eye on things up there and let us know if anything is coming for us."

"Of course, Captain. Spock out."

Jim turned back to his seat and McCoy gave a small chuckle as he sat back down again.

"Think you can settle down now?" he asked.

"No way, Bones," Jim said, rubbing his hands on his thighs and rocking slightly back and forth in his seat. "Not until I have her in my arms. Not until I see her and hear her voice. Not until I can hold her and…"

"Whoa!" McCoy held up his hand in protest. "That's enough, kid. I don't want any more details."

Jim shook his head wryly. "I just want to hold her again, Bones," he said softly. "I just want to know that she's all right. That _they_ are all right."

"I know, kid. I know," McCoy told him. "We'll be there soon."

"Ground contact in thirty seconds," Sulu announced. The _Ramon_ shook as the retro-thrusters fired and within a few seconds the shuttle settled gently onto the planet's surface."

Jim was the first person standing. "Sulu, remind me to write you up for some really great flying, okay?" Jim said as he slapped his pilot on the shoulder while waiting for the port to open. Once the space was large enough several security members exited first with Jim right behind them. Looking around there was some pretty heavy damage inflicted by the small arms projectiles. They were crude but powerful. Jim was glad that it had only been a small contingent of soldiers. From what Uhura had been able to find out from Olegston the crumbling of the UNISTAR fronted government had happened rapidly once the Viceroy had fled the planet with his cronies.

The militants attacking the cave really didn't know how to effectively use the weapons or, more importantly, when a cause was lost. They only wanted to attack those who had defeated them. One last order by the Viceroy as he had evacuated the planet had been fanatically followed by a handful of armed soldiers.

Jim was impressed with how the truth used as propaganda was such an effective weapon. Apparently Boyarsky's group had managed to tap in and take over the planet wide communications system about two and a half weeks ago. With spies feeding actual footage of what UNISTAR and the Viceroy were up to, along with broadcasts of Boyarsky speaking and explaining how this was costing the M'Qtobauan people, the government had crumbled quickly. The rebellion had won without too many shots being fired – until now. It was too bad that the Viceroy's iron grip on the interstellar communications array hadn't lessened until he fled. The _Enterprise_ would have been here much sooner.

Now a handful of militants wanted to wipe out Boyarsky's group at the last command of their vaunted – and defeated – Viceroy. They seemed to have been doing a pretty good job of sealing off the cave. Of the thirty-seven life signs that were scanned when they'd first approached the cave, all but three were currently in the custody of Scotty's security team. The other three had died when they were stunned; either from the stun itself, or by accident because of their location at the time of the blast.

From what Uhura had been able to piece together the cave had been under siege for over two weeks, cut off by the militants from their support in the valley below, but only under attack for a day or two. Olegston seemed sure that Boyarsky was there and Jim was pretty sure Marissa would be with him, but it was over two weeks since the surrender request and her response, and a lot could happen. She could have moved, she could have been injured, and Jim's mind spun with all the possible scenarios as he paced and waited for the cave to be opened.

He was so close…

Finally an opening was made and Jim was standing next to Scotty peering into the darkness.

"Ahoy the cave!" Scotty called, his hands cupped over his mouth.

"Ahoy, Scotty!" a deep voice returned, the man it belonged to already emerging. He was pale, bedraggled, and covered in dust, wearing a native long sleeve shirt, along with Starfleet issued pants, but Lieutenant Roth was instantly recognizable despite his impressive facial hair.

"Roth, laddie," Scotty laughed jovially. "How are you doing man?" he asked, shaking the man's hand enthusiastically.

Roth smiled at Scotty, the expression seemingly etched on his face, then turned to Jim. "Captain," he saluted smartly. "Lieutenant Roth reporting that the away team is all present and accounted for and very relieved to see you, sir!"

"Lieutenant," Jim replied, saluting before stepping forward to shake his hand and clap him on the shoulder. "I knew I could count on you."

"Yes sir," Roth smiled. "We're all a bit worse for wear and could use some hot water, clean clothes and real food, but we're all healthy. All of us," he told Jim pointedly.

Jim did his best not to let his relief be too obvious, but couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "That's good to hear," he peered behind the taller man. "Where?"

"She's towards the back, past the pool and to the left of the green stalagmites," Roth told him, not even pretending not to know what Jim was really asking.

Jim clapped his shoulder again in thanks, moving towards the entrance. After three steps he seemed to remember himself and his job. "Scotty?" he looked over at his chief engineer.

"Go on, Captain," Scotty shooed him away. "You won't be any good to us until you find your lassie. With Lieutenant Roth's help, Sulu and I have everything under control. Go find her."

"Thanks," Jim called over his shoulder, already dodging the _Enterprise_ relief workers and M'Qtobauans who were going in and out of the entrance. Bones gave him a quick nod. He was too busy organizing the unloading of medical supplies to be brought into the cave to do more than offer Jim an encouraging smile.

Stepping inside, Jim forced himself to stop and let his eyes adjust. When he could finally see more than black he began to move slowly, not knowing how smooth the floor actually was. The farther he went the easier it became to see; it wasn't because his eyes had adjusted, but because there was a strange lichen-like plant glowing on the walls, and if he wasn't mistaken there were veins of something on the floor, walls and ceiling that seemed to shimmer and add more light. Guess he wouldn't need that flashlight after all.

The damage to the cave lessened considerably the farther he went and by the time he reached the pool there was no evidence at all of any attack except for the fine coating of dust. The pool was obviously the central meeting area. He saw rocks and boxes, as well as a few decrepit chairs that were apparently used for seating, spread around. There was also what looked like an ops center diagonal from where he stood carved into the cave wall.

Following Roth's instructions he continued on, seeing living and sleeping quarters branching off the aisle he was moving down. They looked primitive, just cots and not a lot of privacy, but it was better than nothing.

Angling left when he reached the glowing green stalagmites, Jim realized instantly that he had reached the infirmary and felt his stomach drop, before he reminded himself that Roth had said they were all healthy.

"Jim, move it," McCoy's voice came impatiently from behind him. "I've got a sled of equipment here."

"Sorry, Bones," Jim automatically responded, moving forward and out of the doorway. He began scanning the room. Too many people were walking around or occupying the cots and floor space of the large cavern and he didn't know if she was one of the ones moving or lying down.

Screw this, he thought to himself. "Marissa!" he called loudly, his voice echoing back at him and dozens of heads turning his way.

"Jim!" she immediately called back.

Turning towards her voice, Jim saw her stand up from where she had been kneeling next to a cot in a secluded corner and his heart almost stopped, then sped up so fast it was practically knocking against his rib cage. She was here. She was alive. He'd barely allowed himself to believe it, even after he'd convinced just about everyone else that only Marissa would reply "nuts" to a demand of surrender.

She was alive and well and running towards him, dodging quickly around people and cots.

He managed to take a few steps towards her, feeling that he was moving through permacrete, and then she was in front of him, her eyes wide and shining with tears. She seemed to pause for a moment, her eyes roving over his face, but then she was in his arms, her face buried in his neck, and everything was all right again.

"Jim! Jim! You're here! You're here!" she repeated over and over again.

"I'm here," he told her, squeezing her tightly and burying his nose in her hair. He breathed in deeply trying to control the emotions that were suddenly surging through him. After being numb for so long, it was overwhelming. Then he smelled it and he almost lost what control he had; it was mixed in with the smell of the cave and dust and everything else, but he recognized it and his body responded. It was the smell of Marissa that he had missed and that had haunted him all these months, a mixture of vanilla and baby powder and just…her. It was real and she was here.

"I'm here," he whispered again, kissing her hair before pulling away. "Let me see you," he managed to unlock her arms from around his neck and pull her away slightly, leaving his hands on her shoulders. "You're skin and bones," he told her once he finally got a good look at her.

"Well, a five star resort this place is not," she told him, self consciously reaching up to fiddle with her hair. "I must look terrible. We haven't had enough water for washing in over a week."

"You look beautiful," Jim told her. Abruptly he pulled her back into his arms. "I missed you. Gods, don't ever leave me again," he whispered hoarsely into her hair.

"Never, Never again," she replied thickly, squeezing him tightly. "I won't leave you. Not ever. I promise."

"Good," Jim pulled away again and used a hand to lift her face up towards his. He smiled softly as he wiped away her tears with his thumb, caressing her face. "I'm glad," he told her softly, "because I love you and I don't want to live without you." He'd enunciated the words clearly, making sure she really heard him and by the widening of her eyes he was pretty sure she did. "These past months…" his voice broke and he shook his head, unable to find the words.

Marissa leaned up and kissed him. "I love you, too, Jim," she told him, her smile wide and dazzling even as tears continued to streak down her face. "And I promise I won't ever leave you again. You're stuck with me. "

"Good," Jim smiled, "because I'm planning to ask you to marry me when we get back to the _Enterprise._ Just so you know," he told her with a quirk of an eyebrow.

Marissa grinned and began blinking rapidly, trying to stem her tears. "Thanks for the heads up. And just so you know, my answer will be yes this time."

"That's good," Jim grinned back at her. "Otherwise I'd have to lock you in our cabin until you agreed." He leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss. "Though I just might do that anyway."

"Only if you lock yourself in with me," Marissa told him, leaning up on tip toes, she offered her lips to him and he didn't hesitate as he finally kissed her, letting all his love and passion for her flow through it.

It took a while before either of them heard the applause and catcalls from the M'Qtobauans and _Enterprise_ medical staff that were near enough to observe their reunion. When they did pull apart finally they were both grinning widely.

_Please Review_

_Author's Note (which is probably TMI): _

_So, this is where I get to tell you the _Complications_ is over. Jim and Marissa are reunited and all it well. I know you're thinking "but what about…Abby and Dekker and Jim and Marrisa's relationship? What happens with all that?" And probably also: "When are they getting married?" That's for the next story: _Completion,_ where there will be the resolution of all that._

_You're probably wondering why I'm doing it this way and the answer is complicated. ;-) I like to post when I am 5 or 6 chapters ahead of the game and right now I do not have that. I have a couple scattered chapters and an outline. The problem is my life has turned pretty sh*tty lately and I haven't really written anything new all summer. _

_You might have head of a bookstore called Borders? Well, that's where I work – and have worked for the last 9 years. I've held every supervisory position as well as just being a normal bookseller. I loved my job and the impact I was able to have on the community with my story times, American Girl club meetings, book groups, educator and business outreach, and as coordinator of charity book drives. The pay was crap, but I loved my job. But that is all ending now. Borders is going out of business and I am caught up in the death throes of my once beloved store._

_On top of my physical therapy for my knee – I am walking with a cane now! – I am working full time at a store that sucks the life out of me. It's no longer fun. The spark that I loved about the store is gone because it's all about the discounts now and getting people through the register lines as quickly as possible. Customers, for the most part, have been great and supportive – or at least polite, but there have been too many jerks who want to yell out us for going out of business and 'inconveniencing' them by no longer allowing our loyalty program discount. As if it's our fault at the store level! Believe me, I'd much rather stay in business and give them their 10% off and keep my JOB, but I don't have that luxury._

_So, if you live near a Borders, by all means take advantage of the discounts – they're pretty good, even if the pickings are slim at the moment, but please be kind to the booksellers who are working. And please, please, PLEASE don't leave a mess or a pile of books on the floor or table or display. We're all short staffed as it is and it's disheartening to see our beloved stores trashed on a daily basis and not have the time or energy to clean it up._

_This message was brought to you by RogueAngel, who is trying to find a new job and trying to get her writing grove back. ;-) I'm sure once things have settled (or ended) I will be able to write again, but until then I'm just surviving. The story of Jim and Marissa is not over – Royalpinkdogs and I have things planned for after _Completion_, believe it or not – it's just on hiatus until my life returns to 'normal' whatever that is._

_Cheers - RA_


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